


Culpa

by ACR



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Demon!Stiles, Multi, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2012-08-14
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 30,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/485934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACR/pseuds/ACR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things for Stiles are really complicated. There’s a Harpy on the loose, his friendship with Scott is distant, and he might have feelings for Derek Hale. Oh, and also, he’s being possessed by a Demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Philaphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philaphobia: The fear of love and falling in love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note: I know I sometimes change tenses without realizing it! I stop doing it so much and I've fixed it in my current stories. Sorry if I do it in this story!

They are at the pool again, and Stiles is pissed.

For the past week they’ve all been hunting something new. No big deal, but it’s a fucking Harpy. She’s huge with wings and purple-ish skin and terrifying eyes and man-eating teeth. She’s passing on through town and just happens to kill a few truckers to eat their organs. For once, it isn’t a shapeshifter, just a scary, crazy creature. But, nothing they haven’t dealt with, big deal.

But no, if the Harpy isn’t bad enough, there is some seriously crazy psychopath HUMAN following the Harpy because it used to be her sister. And when Stiles says psychopath, he really means it. She’s been following the Harpy across the world for a couple decades. The Beastiary says the Harpy granted this chick with immortal life, and the only way to die a human is to kill it. But man, does she have to be so crazy about it?

Basically, the wolf pack as well as Scotts pack has to handle the Harpy because it has an insatiable hunger for delicious human organs, and they can’t have that. But if any of them even get near it, the crazy human bitch comes at them because “no one can kill it but her”. Plus to make things worse, Stiles dad and the police are after the human who kills anyone in her way, and all the Hunters and their moms are after the Harpy.

It’s a complicated mess.

The Harpy is long gone. Outside, it had knocked out Boyd with its huge wings and screamed this epic-Banshee scream that sent Erica running away, tail between her legs. That’s about when Stiles and Scott and Alison got there, which just seemed to piss off Derek more, in the, “why the hell do you people show up everywhere” way.

It chased them into the school and screamed again. Apparently the scream is only affective towards females, because it knocks Alison unconscious immediately. Which wasn’t a good idea because it suddenly became an “enraged Scott” moment and he attacked it. And then the Human came, with her insane eyes and huge rifle. Aside from immortality, Alison had expressed how the girl also seemed to be extra fast and crazy resistant. But she was still human, and so that’s when Stiles started to lose it.

Werewolves? No problem. Kanima? Faeries? Harpys? Stiles could handle the supernatural and all the uncontrollable natural creatures the world threw at him. But a genuine dangerous human, who had gone insane? Something about that terrified him more than he was used to. Plus, if he knew his bad luck, the thing that killed him wouldn’t be a vampire or a witch, but just a crazy human. He had that kind of luck.

So, when the human (the Opheliac, as Derek said the obsessed Humans were called) appeared, guns-a-blazing, Stiles turned heel and ran. And he felt like a coward the entire time too, but he didn’t want to be in the situation. Unfortunately, he ran straight downstairs into the pool. Of course, because he can’t have good luck, the Opheliac followed HIM while Scott and Isaac chased the Harpy outside. And Derek, being a moron, followed Stiles down there too.

So, to add the cherry to the shit-storm, they’re at the pool. Again. At least someone had the decency to cover the actual water this time. But Stiles is still caught somewhere between terror, and appreciation of the irony that he’s at the pool, again, with Derek Hale. Again.

The human is advancing towards him, her massive rifle looking ready to shoot. If Stiles can appreciate one thing, it’s that she couldn’t look more crazy if a special affects team did her makeup. Her hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in years, complete with branches and leaves sticking out, he clothes are all damp and dirty and ripped. Her eyes are wide, he can see the whites on all sides, and she’s smiling the most disgusting smile.

“Dirty little doggys pet, aren’t you?” She rasps.

“Dirty? Considering your choice of clothes, I don’t think you should be calling me that.” His voice is nervous, and he’s suddenly damning his mouth for its inability to shut the hell up.

She frowns and somehow widens her eyes even more, “No one can kill Stella except for me.” And then she’s aiming that gigantic gun at his face, and, holy shit, Stiles is going to die. He’s going to die in here. He was going to die a virgin, killed by a human. He had come so far…

He closed his eyes, terror overtaking him but accepting his fate and time seemed to slow down. He heard the distinct sound of the gun firing and waited for the pain. He opened up his eyes just in time to see Derek, werewolfed out, jumping in front of him.

The bullet hit Derek fast and with a lot more force than anticipated, knocking him backwards and into Stiles. They both fell to the floor and Stiles heard someone screaming and… Well, damn. That was  _him_  screaming. The scream seemed to momentarily knock the quasi-psychotic woman out of her trance, making her realize that she’s down here shooting two people while someone else is chasing her Harpy. She turned without even a second glance and vanished up the stairs. Whatever, she was Scotts problem now.

Stiles is a little too preoccupied with the BLEEDING WEREWOLF LAYING ON TOP OF HIM.

“Oh my god,” Stiles rasped. Derek pushed himself up on his hands and knees and… vomited red blood all over the pool floor. “Oh my GOD.”

“Stiles, shut up.” Derek moaned. Still so rude, even when bleeding.

“What do I do? Sh-should I call the cops?” Derek glared at him. Yeah, it was a stupid question. Never call the cops.

“Get me to the locker room.”

Stiles didn’t have to be asked twice. He leaned over and wrapped his arm around Derek, pulling him to his feet. The sharp aroma of blood filled his nostrils, and if he looked down, he saw why. The bullet had impacted Dereked ribcage, probably a few inches from his heart. His hands were pressed the area for dear life, but Stiles swore he had never seen so much blood in his entire existence. He half-wondered in horror if Dereks organs might fall out or something, but quickly half-dragged his friend (?) to the locker room.

Derek sprawled out over one of the metal benches. He was paling quickly and his face looked drained, blood dripping from his mouth. Though his whole face was stoic as usual, calm like nothing happened, his still-red eyes reflected the extreme amounts of pain he was feeling.

“Towels.” Was all his said. Stiles half ran to the other room, cursing at the large amounts of white towels, grabbing about six anyway. When he returned though, he nearly dropped them as he gasped in horror. Dereks hand must have been half-inside himself, his fingers digging into his own flesh and muscles. Stiles wanted to scream or faint but Derek just winced at the pain and kept going. After a few seconds, he removed his hand, and something fell from it and hit the floor with a clang. Oh god. It was the bullet.

“Needed to extract it so I can heal. Towels?” Derek offered in explanation. Stiles walked forward, his mouth still hanging open, and handed them to the bigger man. Derek looked at them, and suddenly his eyes fluttered like he was going to faint.  Stiles grabbed his shoulder as hard as he could to hold him up, and began pressing towels to the open wound, trying hard not to look at it.

“Hey, no, look at me. Don’t pass out now, please.” Stiles voice was a fucking whisper. He could barely bring himself to speak, though. He wondered if this is what shock felt like, and he’s suddenly hyper-aware of his heart slamming in his chest.

Derek grunted and pressed his hand over Stiles hand, holding the towel to the wound. When Stiles was sure he was steady, he reached down and grabbed another towel. He held it up and warily wiped the blood off of Dereks mouth and lips. Dereks eyes were closed as he did, and then they fluttered open, finally having faded back to their blue-ish green.

“You’re afraid.” Derek said. It was a statement and not a question, but the way his eyes were glued to Stiles it felt like he needed to know.

“Uh, yeah.” He thinks about saying something clever about the Harpy and the crazy bitch but can’t bring himself to, “I thought you were going to die.”

Derek just shrugs, “I’m fine.”

Stiles snorts, “Oh yeah, totally fine. You’re not like, the biggest idiot in the world or anything.”

Derek tilts his head in a way that reminds Stiles of a dog he used to have, which is unpleasant, “Why am I an idiot?”

He stills and looks down at Dereks ribcage. He is pressed the towel there with all his force still, and Derek is pressing his hand like if he stops, Stiles might fall apart. Which at this point, he might.

“You shouldn’t have jumped in front of me.”

“Would you prefer I let you get shot and die?”

“Yes.”

The answer makes Derek stiffen. He looks down and meets his eyes, “I couldn’t do that.”

“And now you’re bleeding everywhere. Great plan.” Stiles can’t help sounding bitter.

Dereks press on his hand tightens, “I will heal, you wouldn’t.”

“You saved me.”

Derek shrugged again, “Now I guess we’re even.” After a few seconds; “You’re still afraid.”

“Yeah,” Stiles heart is still slamming, “I think I’m in shock? I don’t know. Uh, are you going to die?” He squeaks the last part because he is sort of not wanting the answer.

“What? No. Here.” Derek lets go of Stiles hand and reaches around him, pulling off his blood soaked grey shirt. Though it goes, Stiles keeps his hand pressed hard on the wound, so Derek gently touches his hand and pulls it away, towel and all. Stiles winces, but then relaxes at the sight. Dereks stomach is covered in dried blood, but the bullet wound is mostly healed now. It just looks like a deep cut, now. Stiles sighs in relief and stands up. He walks to the sink and wets a towel in cold water, returning to wipe all the blood off of Dereks chest and stomach.

It’s a bit unnerving. His heart is still slamming in his chest, but he’s not as afraid anymore in the dark and silence of the locker room. All he hears is his breathing, Derek gasping slightly when Stiles accidentally runs the rag over the wound, and the sound of his heart slamming inside of him. And he finds himself feeling a bit flustered as he touches over Dereks washboard abs and his stomach, and the little trail of hairs leading down below the waste of his jeans.

Stiles takes a second to control his breathing after he finishes cleaning up the blood, trying hard to ignore the pit of warmth in his gut. He should not be aroused from this. It’s probably just the adrenaline.

“You saved me.” Stiles says again. It sort of rushes out of him, in a whisper. But it really hits him, then. Sure Derek has been protective before, roaring at the other werewolves if they get a little too close to attacking Stiles, distracting other creatures so they wouldn’t attack Stiles, but he was always sure that, if the situation at the pool had been reversed, Derek would have left Stiles to drown. So, Derek Hale taking a bullet for him? No, wow. That was a development.

Derek is staring hard at him, “Yes.”

“Why?” Stiles looks up into those pits, “I’m not in your pack.”

Derek snorts, “Yes you are.”

Suddenly Stiles goes rigid but… not really. He feels a sensation a lot like when he was paralyzed by the Kanima, but then his body is moving. Almost on its own. He closes the distance between him and Derek and is on his knees, stretching upwards. His hand moves almost by itself pushing through Dereks hair and then he’s kissing him and all the control and sensation comes back.

He doesn’t pull away immediately. Derek stiffens, but doesn’t run away so Stiles settles, even though his heart is racing. Holy fuck, he is kissing Derek Hale. Derek Hale isn’t kissing back, but there is warmth and a little wetness and it’s soft and gentle. And then Stiles pulls back and nearly falls, sprawling out all over the floor.

“Oh my God,” Stiles looks up. Derek looks completely shocked, but also confused and maybe, possibly, a little bit amused. “Oh my GOD I am so sorry! I don’t know- I mean, I’ve been kind of questioning my sexuality… I guess- No, not that I’m like… Into you! Just, I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why I did that. I am so sorry.” He stands up quickly and turns away. His face feels like it’s on fire and he is so embarrassed he wants to just melt into the floor and vanish.

“Holy shit, do you ever stop talking?” Derek stands up a little hesitantly, like he’s worried he’ll open the wound, and then he’s on his feet and closing in and- Holy shit. He’s crowding Stiles up against the locker and suddenly its lips-on-lips again.

And damn, it is a lot better being kissed back. The first thought that occurs to Stiles that this is his first real kiss. Sure when he was younger, his mom used to kiss him all the time but that doesn’t count. Alison has kissed him on the cheek and Erica has tried a few times, but they never stuck. He used to think he was saving himself for Lydia, but that faded with his crush. So… yeah. First real kiss.

His second thought is  _holy shit I am kissing a guy_. It’s not that Stiles is homophobic, he thinks Danny is the bomb whether he’s gay or not and supports whatever. But it was only this year that he started questioning his sexuality at all. Little glances at Scott shirtless or a certain appreciation for Jacksons jaw line were one thing, but lustfully getting off at the thought of random guys blowing him was when he started wondering. Now he’s almost sure.

The third thought is why the hell Derek is kissing him right now at all. He doesn’t have much time to complete that thought, though, because Derek is pulling away and looking irritated.

“Stop thinking. You’re thinking too hard.”

“Oh.” Is all Stiles can squeak out.

Dereks eyes soften, “What?”

“I just… I am confused. About my sexuality.” He stutters.

“I’m not.” Derek says solidly.

“Oh.  _Oh._ ”

Derek sighs and lifts up his hand, pressing his thumb against Stiles’ chest, hard. So hard there might be a bruise there tomorrow.

“Do you feel that? Do you hear that? Your heart.”

“Uh, yeah.” It is slamming, faster than earlier when Derek got shot. He might be having cardiac arrest.

“It means you’re not confused, not right now.”

He knew he was right. He stared into eyes that had a certain softness to them Stiles only ever saw directed towards him. And damn, he really wanted to kiss him.

Suddenly, something rang out, loud and clear but it echoes within the hollows of his mind. A voice that was there, but it wasn’t, cold as iron and hard as stone.

_It’s either kiss him or kill him, Stiles. And since you’re too weak to kill him, you better do the other._

He’s shocked and maybe a little alarmed but his body is moving without his consent again, digging fingers into Dereks shaggy hair and pulling him in. Dereks lips open up warmly and wetly, letting Stiles’ move against them and it feels fucking amazing. He nervously inches his tongue forward, and Derek takes it graciously, sucking on it hard. Stiles whimpers and feels Dereks hands on his waist, under his shirt, just touching his stomach lightly. Derek tastes like blood mostly, and maybe just a hint of something else. Suddenly Derek pulls back and pushes away from him.

“Fuck.” He rushes over and sits down like nothing had happened. Stiles feels a bit wounded and wants to ask what the hell, but the question is answered as Isaac and Scott (carrying Alison) appear through the door.

They don’t look too bad, a few easily healing cuts and blood clumping an area of Scotts hair. Derek stands up,  and is awkwardly obvious about his irritation at their intrusion.

Scott frowns, “The Argents showed up, had to have put fifteen bullets in the Opheliac but she kept going.”

“She’s immortal. Only killing the Harpy can let her die.” Derek says like it’s common knowledge.

“But they captured the harpy.  They had huge nets and whatever. The Opheliac ran away.”

“But I think she’ll try to find the Harpy,” Isaac piped up, “So it’s the Argents problem now.”

 “It’s never not our problem.” Derek growled. He was suddenly rude and harsh, the cold returning to his eyes. Stiles wondered for a second if that had really just happened, but then he tasted the blood on his lips and knew it had.

Fuck.

——-

That night, Stiles couldn’t sleep even if he wanted to. Sitting in his room, he felt like he wasn’t alone. It was the most unnerving thing ever, so he focused on thinking.

Honestly, he hadn’t had normal feelings for Derek since the pool incident. Something about holding someone up for two hours and being the only reason they’re alive kind of changes the relationship. After that Derek was particularly weird, and this wasn’t the first time Stiles had noticed, of course. He was more keen to protect Stiles while letting Scott get harmed, though that was probably because Stiles was human. Derek was also a lot softer with Stiles. While he turned cold glares and sarcastic remarks on everyone else, he turned comfortable silence and soft eyes to Stiles. He still threatened to punch him when he talked too much, but Stiles no longer thought he meant it.

So, a friendship had formed, definitely. So, what about romantic feelings? Yeah, there were those pesky wet dreams featuring men, and his fantasies turning different when he imagined Derek going down on him instead of some random chick. And the obnoxious arousal when Derek took off his shirt.

Stiles shifted uncomfortably. Okay. Friendship feelings and maybe some sexual urges. But how about romantic? He closed his eyes and imagined Derek. There was that warmth again, but it wasn’t really arousal… He imagined Dereks big stupid smile, and the way his hair looked messy after he had been sleeping. He imagined the may his voice sounded when he wasn’t being an uptight prick, and yeah, they sounded very different. Those eyes that got all wide when he was listening. He even liked the way Derek looked with red eyes and teeth bared, growling at something that was going trying to kill them.

_You’re so fucking oblivious, do you think those are friendly feelings?_

Stiles froze. There was that voice again. Cold and distant, like an echo from a long time ago. There, but not there, clouded and coming from inside.

“Who are you?” Stiles said, feigning courage and wondering if he was losing his mind. It was really only a matter of time.

There was a pause, and then:  _I’m your subconscious, dumbass._

“Bullshit,” Stiles whispered, “I have a subconscious, it sure as hell doesn’t sound like you.” There was a rumbling, sort of like a low laughing.

_Does it sound like Derek? Because you’re so head over heels for this guy it’s getting gross._

“Okay, mysterious voice, I’ll play along. What the hell are you talking about?”

A whisper, like a sigh.  _You can’t stop thinking about his voice and his laugh and his smile, and you think those are friendly? Add on, you get half hard just thinking about him. I’ve been here, I see your fantasies._

Stiles feels a little violated, “How long have you been here? What are you?”

This time there is a long silence, so long Stiles begins to understand that the voice is gone and he begins to drift to sleep. But just before he slips under, he hears it again, far away now.

_My name is Rael._


	2. Amnesiphobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amnesiphobia: The fear of forgetting.

Stiles woke up feeling fine. He wasn’t even sure that last night had happened. The voice hadn’t made an appearance or spoke again, but the name was ringing in his ears like a symphony. Rael. Rael.

He got through the first half of school with minimal distractions, but his mind felt more cloudy than usual. Whether the voice was real or his imagination trying to tell him something, it had a point. And especially after that kiss, Stiles couldn’t get Derek out of his head for more than five minutes before he was back.

And Stiles was fucking confused. So what? He had feelings for Derek. He was still… ya know, straight, for the most part. So even if he had feelings for Derek, who said he was willing to act on them? Sure, he had practically handed over his first kiss to him on a silver platter, and it was awesome, but who said he wanted any more than that?

More importantly, did Derek want any more than that? He said he was sure about his sexuality which was… surprising. Stiles surely hadn’t pegged Derek as bisexual, especially not after he had shown so much disinterest when Danny repeatedly checked him out. But still, besides liking Stiles a little more than the others, he hadn’t shown any romantic interest aside from violently pushing Stiles against a wall and tonguing him. Which was nice, but it didn’t mean anything.

Scott must have noticed something up at lunch because he kept whispering with Alison and then glancing his way. Stiles rolled his eyes and finally leaned across the table.

“What?” He hissed.

Scott looked at him for a second, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Why? Do I still have Dereks blood on me? I tried to wash it off, but you know, you werewolves have persistent cells.”

“No, you’ve just been… quiet.” Alison says, offering him a small smile.

“Also you kind of had a panic attack and left the room during Chemistry.” Scott says quickly. Alison obviously elbows him in the side.

Stiles blinks at them, “What?”

“Uh, yeah dude. You mumbled something and just stood up and left and didn’t come back. Don’t you remember?”

Stiles stared straight ahead. He had assumed Chemistry passed in his usual haze like most of school, but now that he was focusing, he DIDN’T remember Chemistry. He didn’t even remember arriving. He remembered English before it, and specifically remembered hitting Danny during gym, but he didn’t remember Chemistry.

“Yeah, I remember,” He lied, “Sorry. I was kinda dizzy and tired from last night, I think, so I went to the nurses office.”

Scott looked relieved but Alison almost didn’t look convinced. Fuck. Now he was having amnesia and lying to his friends. What the actual hell was going on? He had a feeling he knew.

“Excuse me.” He said and stood up quickly, rushing out of the lunch room. He slammed into the bathroom and made sure it was empty. He glanced around, “Hello?”

No answer. He took a deep breath.

“Rael? Are you there?”

_Depends entirely on who’s asking._

Stiles gritted his teeth, but was somewhat relieved to have a reply, “Why don’t I remember Chemistry? What did you do?”

_Relax. I got tired of listening to that man preach his science, so I went on a… stroll. But seeing as how you let me take over your mind and your body, I’d say you were already pretty mentally checked out as well._

“You can’t just take a walk in my body, this isn’t Revenge of the Bodysnatchers. Who are you?”

_I told you, I’m Rael._

“Fucking fascinating. Why are you here? Where are you? WHAT are you?”

No answer. The silence stretched on and Stiles found anger boiling up inside of him. He hated this, feeling controlled or used. It was pissing him off to have no answers. He leaned against the sink and stared into the mirror. Suddenly, the overwhelming power of being paralyzed came over him again and he stared into his reflection as his body became overpowered. He watched an unfamiliar sneer stretch over his face slowly, and his pupils grew until they had engulfed his entire eyes with blackness.

He was horrified. He was seeing everything, but he couldn’t speak or move. His body moved his neck and smiled more, like it was so nice to have a roomy body. Then lifted his hands and looked down at them, moving his fingers. Soon, it began to overcome Stiles, the knowledge of exactly what was happening. Fear hit him like a brick wall.

_This isn’t me, holy shit. This is someone else. This is evil._

And his fear started to overcome him. It started to spread out over his body, and he realized he was using it to feel. He spread it like fingers, and it HURT, regaining feeling in his chest, spreading through each nerve in the most painful way. The sneer on this creatures face faded. And suddenly there was fear in  _its_  eyes. It shook its head and let out a grumbling groan, tumbling backwards and hitting the wall. Stiles felt that, the pain. Tingling and reaching, he tried harder. Used his fear to regain control.

The creature gripped its face, HIS face, making the most ungodly breathing screech that was definitely not human. It just fueled his fear more. It fell to the floor, and Stiles vaguely felt the sensation of solid tile on his knees. It screeched louder, but Stiles could sort of hear his screams hidden inside of them. The creature doubled forward and vomited. Black smoke came from him and he screamed as loud as he could, some of it escaping. Then, the smoke sucked back into him with so much power it nearly stood him back up. He got to his feet, and he was definitely in control of them now.

He stumbled forward, hands on sink. It’s painful, it’s tingling through him like a pulse but he’s almost in power. The black in his eyes is still there, his mouth open in gasping breathes. Stiles musters all his strength to lift up his arm and plunge it into the mirror.

It shatters, and Stiles falls to the floor, flat on his back. And he feels so much pain in his body, mostly in his hand now, but he’s completely alone and in control again.

So he lets out a blood curdling scream.

——-

Derek knew something was wrong when he startled awake around noon. He hadn’t slept well after last night’s events and eventually stayed up working out until late and definitely, definitely, not thinking about Stiles.

But when he finally was shaken out of his sleep, he was hearing something. Distance, familiar, like an echo. Familiar, yet drowned out by something else. Like a… screech? Yeah, that’s the word. He honed in his hearing but it didn’t get much better. Suddenly, it stopped for a few seconds. He listened carefully, and then heard an unmistakable sound.

“Stiles.” He breathed heavily. His wolf senses came to him full blown and he was out the door before he could even think straight. The scream kept going, with minimal stops and pauses. He wondered if Stiles was still screaming or if it was just an echo. He ignored his car and went into wolf mode, despite every part of him saying it was a bad idea. He ran fast through the woods. He had to get to Stiles.

A few minutes later at full speed, he was staring at the school from where he stood across the street. He calmed down his senses and listened. He couldn’t hear anything anymore. And it’s not like he could just go waltzing into a high school like a creepy pervert. He pulled out his phone and dialed Scott.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Fuck,” he growled aloud and hung up. He opened up a new text (and he hated texting) and sent it.

**To: Scott  
From: Derek**

**What the hell is going on? I heard Stiles scream from three miles away.**

He sent it and folded his arms, glaring at the school. His every instinct said to just go inside, but he wasn’t an idiot. Still, he was impatient. He just wanted to find out what was going on. Suddenly, he heard the familiar sound of an ambulance and police cars coming.

Fuck it.

He took off across the street. It looked like it was lunch or something because lots of teenagers were out and about. He weaved himself between the cars and up the stairs.

Once inside, he honed his sense of smell. It was easier to sniff down Scott than Stiles, since Scott was a hormonal lovey mess he pretty much left his scent all over everything and Derek knew it pretty well. He darted through the hall, only getting a few weird looks from people who recognized him. He smelled Scott close, and saw a group of people gathered around a bathroom door muttering. He shoved past them without really being nice about it.

Scott and Alison and Jackson were all gathered around Stiles on the floor. A teacher stood nearby, she looked worried and was probably the one who called 911. Derek rather forcefully moved Scott out of the way and knelt down next to Stiles.

He was hyperventilating and looked like he was sweating and convulsing. His eyes were darting around but he didn’t seem like he was seeing anyone.

“He’s having a Panic Attack.” Derek said calmly, “Has this happened before? Is it because of his ADHD?”

Scott looked pale, “No, I mean, not that I know of. He left at lunch and then we heard him screaming a few minutes later.”

“How did you even know to come?” Jackson asked Derek looking annoyed by the whole situation.

“I heard him scream…” His voice trailed off as he smelled something in the air. Blood. He finally saw Stiles hand resting by his knee, covered in blood and definitely needing stitches. He looked up at the shattered mirror and almost missed the weird look Scott was giving him.

“You heard him scream? Where were you?”

“Three fucking miles away. God, check your phone sometimes.” Derek growled. He looked at Alison, who seemed to irritate him the least around here, “What the hell happened?”

“He’s been really weird,” Alison shared a look with Scott, “Really quiet. And he randomly left class today and then looked like he didn’t even remember leaving. Then he went to the bathroom and…” She trailed off and looked down over Stiles.

Stiles was making a whining gasping sound. Derek took his bleeding hand and rested the other hand on his chest.

“Stiles, it’s okay. We’re here.” His voice is soothing. Sometimes he doesn’t even know how it’s coming out of him when he talks to Stiles.

Stiles keeps hyperventilating but his eyes fix on Derek, “Don’t let them put me under.” He gasps.

“What?”

“No medicine. Don’t let me fall asleep.”

Derek looks between Scott and the others.

“Why?” Scott asks. But Stiles just begins screaming again, and this time it’s loud and ear splitting and makes Derek want to explode from the chest outward.

Suddenly there are sirens outside. Derek holds Stiles hands and watching him convulse and scream until paramedics come into the room and hoists him onto a stretcher. He follows them outside, suddenly feeling oddly like a protective dog that follows its master around. And the thought makes him really unhappy.

There’s a single ambulance and a police car outside. The police isn’t Stiles’ dad, and Derek is oddly glad. He hears Scott and Alison behind him, though Jackson seems to have vanished. He also hasn’t seen any of his pack since he arrived. They were probably still licking their wounds after Derek yelled at them for being weak and useless at yesterdays fight, especially Erica who ran off.

As they loaded Stiles onto the ambulance, Derek turned around towards a very concerned Alison and a very suspicious looking Scott.

“Just go back to what you’re doing, and I’ll follow him to the hospital and keep an eye on him. I’ll let you know what happens.”

Scott frowns, “Did you wolf out to get here?”

Derek flushes, “Uh, yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just turns away. Derek turns to get on the ambulance with Stiles, giving one of the paramedics a glare when he tries to stop him. Needless to say, he gets on.

——-

Stiles is to be released from the hospital that night after ten stitches on his hand and some serious psychological questioning from anyone who has seen him that day.

He’s really embarrassed. In reality, screaming and having a meltdown wasn’t the best way to react to ANY situation, even if you’ve just been possessed by some… evil thing probably still living inside of you.  Though its not like he can control anything when he has an attack. The worst part is, he hasn’t had a panic attack in eight years, not since his mom died. And though he never punched a mirror as a kid, he remembered them being horrible like just like that.

He was just freaking out. The only intelligible thought he had was I can’t fall asleep, I can’t go unconscious or it will take over again. So when he heard Derek’s voice, that’s what he told him.

Derek did the best he could. Stiles vaguely remembered Derek basically looking like he might rip the Paramedics hand off when he tried to drug Stiles, so Stiles stayed un-drugged. But when the stitches were in and the attack passed, a doctor finally convinced Derek that Stiles needed sleep so he let him.

When Stiles woke up three hours later, he nearly started to panic again. Not quite sure where he was or what had happened, still terrified from those black eyes and the horrific pain. He was gasping and then felt warmth on his hand. He jerked to find Derek staring at him with those overly-wide eyes filled with concern.

“I’m fine.” Stiles said. He stared down at Dereks hand grabbing his, “Where am I?”

“The hospital.”

“Oh, right. Should have been obvious, it smells overly clean in here.”

Derek rolled his eyes and tried to let go, but Stiles was gripping his hand tight. He was trying to make sure everything was still real. So Derek left it.

“What the hell happened, Stiles? You broke a mirror and you were freaking out.”

Stiles paled, “Uh, you saw that? Me freaking out, I mean.”

“Yeah, I did.”

They were silent. Stiles was just about ready to tell Derek everything, about the something weird inside of him driving him and possessing him. And then he heard the voice again.

_Please don’t tell him I am here. Please._

It made Stiles jump and nearly piss himself. But it didn’t sound the same. Instead of snarky it sounded overly sad. Pleading. Begging. Stiles didn’t care, it was evil.

_Please. I won’t possess you anymore. But he will make me leave, and I cannot leave. I have to stay, I have to stay._

He grimaced and looked at Derek who was watching him expectedly. “I, um… I don’t know. It just sort of happens sometimes.”

Derek frowned and it was more like the glare that Stiles was used to, “Panic attacks usually have triggers, Stiles.”

Stiles shrugged, “I guess I’m just the abnormal freak then.” It came out a little more serious than he meant for it to sound.

Dereks face softened and he sighed, letting go of Stiles hand.

“How long have you been here?” Stiles eyed his stitches and rubbed them lightly with his thumb. They ached.

“Since you were admitted, so like, four hours.” Derek waved it off like it was nothing. Stiles jaw dropped. Derek had stayed with him. In the Hospital. For four hours.

“So, schools out?”

“Yes.”

“Why isn’t Scott here?”

Derek laughed out loud, and it made Stiles’ stomach flutter. He grinned wickedly down at him, “You aren’t allowed any visitors.”

“Aaand you snuck in anyway. Awesome.” Stiles rolled his eyes, “Wait, why am I not allowed any visitors?”

“Your dads orders.” Derek smirked. Stiles groaned.

“Seriously…” Stiles frowns, “The overprotective dad thing is getting old.”

“He loves you. Be grateful you have him.”

Stiles stared at Dereks strong back and he just looked sad. Stiles hadn’t often stopped to think about the fact Derek had literally no one these days. He had his pack, but, they may as well have been a bunch of obnoxious idiot puppies. And Stiles was suddenly hyper-aware of the fact he really, really wanted to be there for Derek. And then his heart started beating fast.

Derek must have heard the increase, because he turned to face him. “Stiles.”

“Derek.”

He shifted awkwardly, a hilarious sight on the large guy, “I wanted to apologize, for yesterday. I was… in pain, and grateful towards you. Adrenaline, and all that. I didn’t really stop to ask if you were okay with an advance like that…”

“I was.” It spills out of Stiles’ mouth quickly and Derek looked surprised.

“…Okay.”

“And,” Stiles gulped, “I would be okay with further advances, in the future.”

Derek laughed. Stiles really likes when he makes Derek laugh. But then the Alphas eyes narrow.

“Your dad just pulled up.”

“Awesome.” Stiles groaned sarcastically. Mostly because that meant Derek would have to leave. Suddenly though, Derek walked over to his bed and knelt close to his face. He pressed his forehead to Stiles’ and looking into his eyes.

“Let’s try to avoid panic attacks in the future, okay?” He grumbled.

“Okay.” Stiles choked. His face was probably way too red to even believe.

And then he kissed him. It was soft, affectionate. Stiles closed his eyes even after Derek pulled away, and when he opened them, he was long gone.

——-

Surprisingly, Stiles’ dad doesn’t pressure him into saying why he had the attack. He mostly fusses over it in general, saying he wishes his work would have let him be here immediately. Stiles just told him he was fine, over and over and over. And then he was released.

His dad asked him if he wanted any dinner, and Stiles said he was just tired. Which wasn’t even a lie, he WAS tired. But mostly, he was eager to talk to the thing inside his head. If it was going to stay there, then there was going to need to be some rules.

He closed the door behind him and turned off the light. He frowned and whispered out, “Rael?”

_Stiles._

He frowned. Good to know he was on a first name basis with some… thing. “I didn’t tell Derek. And I won’t yet if you answer my questions.” Silence. And then;

_Fine._

“First, what are you?”

_I am a Demon. To you, I am darkness or smoke. I have no real physical form, and I needed a strong vessel to hold my body on this earth._

Demon. Huh. Stiles actually had some knowledge on Demons, “Wait, don’t demons usually TAKE OVER their vessels?”

_The vessel I found was too strong. Your mind rejects me. I can only take over for moments at a time._

Stiles smirked, “So why do you stay?”

_…I cannot leave yet. My physical body was too weak. If I leave, I will die._

“Believe it or not, I’m not totally opposed to that idea. Why can’t I tell Derek? What does he know about you?”

_Derek Hale is well versed in cures. He can remove me from your body. Of course, for you, it will be slow and painful._

“Then Derek wouldn’t do it.” Stiles gritted his teeth.

A soft laugh.  _You are a fool, Stiles. Derek is a monster, and monsters kill other monsters like me._

“You’re an idiot. Derek may be a wolf, but he isn’t a monster.”

_There is much you don’t know, unfortunately._

“I can get rid of you too, can’t I?” The silence answers his question, “Earlier, I almost got you out of me. I was almost strong enough.”

_Yes, you can. It is an excruciatingly painful process and may leave your insides physically scarred. I can also leave on my own, willingly. And that has no pain, for you._

“Oh yeah?” Stiles sat down on his bed, “So what will it take to make you leave?”

_I am weak. I need time to recuperate. I am also my strongest under the full moon next week. If you wish, I will leave your body then._

Stiles laughed bitterly. Today sucked, “It’s always the fucking full moon. Alright, fine. You can stay here but only until the full moon. Only one more question.”

_Yes?_

“How long have you been here?”

_Two months._

“Could you have left last full moon?”

_You said only one more question. But yes, I could have. Maybe not for long, but maybe I like watching you live your life Stiles._

He felt awkward and violated at that.

_Oh, is Derek the only one allowed to violate you?_

“Get out of my head. I’m going to sleep.”

_Goodnight Stiles._

He was going to start counting the minutes until the full moon.


	3. Nychtophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nychtophobia: The fear of darkness.

Three days had passed and now it was Friday. Proof of Raels existence had been minimal at best. He occasionally piped up his opinion on something which made Stiles promptly tell him to shut the hell up. Still, Rael remained mostly quiet.

Despite it, though, Stiles couldn’t ignore the way it felt knowing he was there. Lingering on the back of his mind, and he almost started to feel insane. As the full moon grew closer, he also felt Rael getting stronger, and that was a terrifying thought. If he had so easily overpowered Stiles that day when he was weak, then he couldn’t imagine the damage he could do if he was strong.

On the other hand, Stiles felt some sort of connection to Rael, and he began to realize the Demon wasn’t lying when it said he was enjoying  Stiles’ life. In certain situations, he could feel when Rael became sad or frightened or happy, especially happy, at really stupid things. And Rael fed off Stiles’ life almost as much as Stiles did.

Also since the incident in the bathroom, he understood how it felt to be treated like a freak. Basically everyone knew now that Stiles had had a complete psychological breakdown in the middle of the school bathroom, and they sent their odd looks his way all day long. It wouldn’t be so bad, but Alison was treating him like a fragile child and when Scott wasn’t making sure he was alright, he was giving Stiles some seriously weird looks. Danny kept giving him sincere smiles and shoulder pats, and even Lydia was being totally nice to him. In fact, the only person who was treating him like a normal person was Jackson, who kept mocking him for fainting in the toilet (though that wasn’t what happened at all).

And Derek? Well, Stiles hadn’t seen Derek since the hospital. He enquired Boyd about how the Harpy situation was coming. Apparently Derek had been so preoccupied trying to hunt down the Opheliac before it killed anyone else, that no one had really seen him. The Argents still had the Harpy imprisoned, searching for ways to kill it.

So when Scott slid across from him in the Library during study hour, Stiles already had an idea.

“Hey,” He leaned across the table, “We should go out into the woods tonight, search for the Opheliac.”

“If Derek can’t find her, what makes you think we will?” Scott glared at him, “Plus, is that such a good idea? You had a panic attack three days ago, we don’t want you having another one in the middle of a battle.”

“For the last time Scott, I am fine. And damn, it’s worth a shot! Come on, we haven’t had pack stuff to do in days. I am freaking dying of boredom.”

“So be a normal teenager. Watch a movie. Go on a date.”

Stiles grimaced and fell back in his chair, “I have about as much chance getting a date these days as a fish does going to the moon.”

Scott shifted awkwardly, “Yeah, I’ve been kind of meaning to talk to you about that.”

“What?” Stiles eyed him, “What do you know? Who is into me? If it’s Lydia, well, she missed the Stiles train all the way to sexville. And if it’s Erica, ugh. No.”

Scott half laughed, but then realized he was supposed to be serious. He narrows his eyes, “What do you know about when a werewolf finds a mate?”

“Ugh, way too much thanks to you.”

“Seriously, Stiles.”

“I don’t know, dude.” Stiles muses, “If you’re saying you’re into me in an offhand way, that’s weird.”

Scott rolls his eyes and continues like Stiles hadn’t said that, “For me, when I found Alison it was like… an instinct to be with her all the time. To protect her. But a lot of stuff changed for me, too. Even when she was miles away, I still heard her. I could smell her. If she was in trouble, I would abandon all reason and rules to go to her.”

“Yes, I distinctly remember the disgusting werewolf emotions and feels, but thanks for reiterating. Do you have a point?”

He awkwardly looked anywhere but Stiles’ face, “What I am trying to say is, I went through it, so I know when a werewolf might be becoming… attached to someone.”

“The point, Scott, get to it.”

Scott sighed and leaned on the table, “Dude. Derek heard you screaming Tuesday from three miles away. He wolfed out and ran all the way here, not even caring if he was seen. He’s the most by-the-book werewolf I know. Doesn’t that feel a lot like he abandoned all reason to you?”

Stiles stiffened and felt his face pale. Oh, of course. Scott wasn’t an idiot, he probably had picked up on something, and it was only a matter of time.

“Oh, um,” Stiles looked down, “It’s no big deal, I guess. Derek and I are friends, and adults who make our own decisions.”

“He’s dangerous, Stiles. I like Derek as much as the next wolf but… I don’t think you should pursue-”

“Derek is not dangerous.” Stiles stiffened angrily.

 Scott raised a brow, “So, are you saying you do like him?”

“No, I’m just saying it’s not really your business.” Stiles stood up and left. He didn’t care that there was still ten minutes of class left. He suddenly really wanted to just leave. So he made his way out to his car and drove away.

He really didn’t know why he was angry.

_I think it’s quite obvious, really._

“Oh?” Stiles frowned, “And what is it you think, random strange Demon?”

_I have seen much of your memories and I have felt your soul, Stiles. You were very alone before you found Scott to be your friend._

That was true. Stiles gripped the steering wheel and listened.

_And when you need him most, he fails to be around. He no longer wanders mindlessly through the woods to spend time with you. He ignores you, even when you’re in trouble, for Alison._

“If you’re going to try to convince me to kill Alison, I should say don’t waste your breath.”

_Don’t be silly. I enjoy the company of the young Hunter and so do you. I am simply stating a fact of your life. Scott abandoned you for love, as many teenage boys do, and now you are left with cracks. Derek could fill up those cracks, love you and care for you. And Scott had the audacity to tell you not to._

Stiles softened a little. The words that the Demon spoke weren’t bull, they made sense. And Stiles realized, that was why he was angry. Because if Stiles wanted love, Scott shouldn’t try to get in the way.

“Rael, how old are you?”

_Very old. Time here and time where I belong are on two very different scales, so it is hard to say. I enjoy the company of Earth and its people. Its wonderments and miracles._

Stiles smiled a bit at that, “Is that why you get happy at the taste of onion rings and hamburgers?”

There is a thrilling cackle from inside. Yes _. Among other things, I do enjoy those human delicacies._

“Awesome.”

_Now let me ask you a question, young Stiles. Are you really going to stay inside tonight and watch movies alone?_

Stiles smirked, “Hell no.”

——-

Eight o’ clock had Stiles wandering through the woods alone and wondering why the hell he thought this was a good idea.

He had been looking for three hours. He had no werewolf sense of smell to track ANYTHING so he wasn’t even sure why he thought he’d find anything. All he really had was two pieces of knowledge about the Harpy he thought might give him a head-start finding the Opheliac.

First thing he learned from the Beastiary; Harpys spend their nights in caves. So Stiles printed off a list of all the local caves and had been checking them all evening. If the Opheliac had that piece of knowledge, Stiles figured it might be looking for the Harpy there.

Second thing he learned from paying attention; the Opheliac came when the Harpy screeched. So Stiles had been working on his screech.

_I screech much better than you._

Stiles laughed. The only good part about wandering the woods alone was, well, he wasn’t actually alone. He felt okay. He had been nervously waltzing into caves with his dads old hand-gun all night, but at least he had the company.  It was pointless anyway. Three hours, two extensive hikes, and twelve caves later, he hadn’t found anything.

Which might have been fine considering he didn’t even know what to do if he found the thing.

He was on his way to an underground cave now. In fact, he saw it just a dozen feet ahead. An eerie hole in the forest floor. And that is when his phone beeped.

**To: Stiles  
From: Scott**

**The Argents said that the Harpy escaped somehow. Derek knows so we’re all going to look. Stay put, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.**

Stiles groaned. Of course the Harpy fucking escaped, and of course they wanted Stiles to stay put uselessly. He found himself missing more and more pack stuff lately since he was just a human. Even Alison had her crossbow.

Stiles frowned and continued forward. Just one more cave, and he guessed he would go home. But since he was already here, might as well.

_You aren’t useless to this pack. You seem to be the only intelligent one, not to mention the only one with a decent sense of humor._

Stiles smirked and entered the dark cave, fishing out his flashlight, “Well a sense of humor only gets you so far. Plus, Derek is really funny when he wants to be. And Scott is hilarious in the stupid way.”

_Just don’t count yourself out just yet._

Stiles nodded and kept walking, quickly, shining his light on the walls and feeling the remaining light from the sunset fade as he walked in deeper. Man, this cave was deep. It was really unnerving.

He heard a skittering and paused, listening, he heard it again. Probably rats, he decided, which was also disgusting. And then he heard an ear-splitting screech.

“Fuck.” He shined is light into the cave depths and saw something from afar coming right at him. Huge leather wings and glowing eyes.

_Stiles, run._

He heard it but suddenly his legs were jelly. Even if he ran, what could he do? He didn’t have the power to kill the Harpy. He was a mile from his car, and it could catch him. Holy shit he was boned. He was going to die and he never even got to tell Derek that-

Suddenly, he was turning around and running at full speed, having dropped his flashlight completely. It took four whole seconds to realize it wasn’t him running.

_Don’t worry, I will handle this. I just have your body. Stiles, scream, and Derek will come._

So Stiles opened his mouth and screamed Dereks name as well as he could while running top-speed out of the cave.

“What are you going to do?” Stiles said out of breath as the remaining dim sunlight reached him, “You can’t kill it, no one can figure out how.”

_Turns out, you won’t have to._

He heard a distinct gunshot sound and gasped. Of course the Opheliac would show up now. They were double boned. Terror was building inside of him, and he felt it pushing outwards into Rael.

“Stop, Stiles!” His voice burst out of him, but it wasn’t his voice. It was darker, almost older sounding, though it still sort of sounded like him. Rael had control of all of him now. He felt himself dart behind a huge tree a few feet from the cave mouth.

 _What are you doing?_  Stiles mind-screamed.

“I am saving you. You being dead is no use to me. Now stop being scared, I promise I will get you out of here alive. When you feel fear it drives me out.”

Stiles just sat back and tried to focus. For some reason he trusted Rael even though he had no reason to.

Suddenly the Opheliac came bumbling out of the forest just as the Harpy ran from the cave. It truly was a terrifying creature. Long limbs and huge, leather wings. Giant claws and a tail. Covered in prickly looking fur. But the way its face looked, its body… You could almost tell it used to be human.

It saw the human and its eyes widened. It turned and started flapping its wings, ready to fly away. Stiles body jerked, and Rael drew the hand gun. He turned from the safe place behind the tree, aimed it, and fired two shots.

_Bam. Bam._

Stiles had never seen such accuracy in aim. If he had control of it, his jaw might have dropped. They both hit the base of each Harpys wings, making it screech in pain and fall to the floor, its ability to fly suddenly disabled.

Stiles stayed wary of the Opheliac but she acted like she hadn’t even noticed them. She was laughing hysterically at the suddenly disabled creature. She reached into her pocket and pulled out two dusty looking shot-gun shells. She loaded them quickly, still laughing.

“These bullets are special for you, creature.” She tilted her head, “They were made with her hair, you know. My sisters. From before she turned into you.”

Stiles felt suddenly less scared. The Harpy stared with wide eyes at the Human, and then fell to all floors. It bowed its head, as almost to say “you have won”. Then Stiles watched as the Shotgun fired two rounds into the Harpys head.

Blood splattered along with what Stiles thought were brains. But its soul seemed to vanish. Definitely dead this time, though the relief didn’t make him any less grossed out. The Opheliac laughed once more, dropped her gun and slumped to her knees. And the laughs turned to sobs.

Rael held the gun tight in his hand but walked forward towards the Human.

_What are you doing? You should get out of here!_

He stopped. The girl turned up and looked at him. For the first time, she looked human. No longer insane, but a broken person and a body.

“I have no more bullets left,” she said, tears streaming down her face, “Will you please kill me?”

 _No,_  Stiles gulped,  _she’s innocent._

Rael laughed. It was definitely not Stiles’ laugh. Harsh and dark. Then he started walking towards the Harpys body. “Innocent. Do you know how people become Harpys, Stiles?”

_No._

Rael poked the huge mass with his foot a bit, “They are people, born one half of a whole. The other half is someone they love dearly. A lover, a friend, in this case, a sister.” Rael circled around the body, seemingly checking to make sure it was dead, “This person they love dearly, however, hurts them. The original Harpys were creatures of Greek myth, wind messengers of God. Those of us who watched the Earth, know that they were more than that. They were people who desired freedom, and some higher power gave it to them. Over many years of abuse, they start becoming less human. They complete themselves with a new body, strength, and find freedom from the pain.”

Rael must have decided it was really dead, because he turned and walked back to the Opheliac, who was crying and watching him. “The pain they feel as humans is so great it overcomes them. This woman is not innocent, she is the reason this creature exists. But instead of killing her, the Harpy gives them the gift of eternal life, because they love them. And this bitch turned against that gift, choosing to kill her sister even in her second life.”

“No…” The woman muttered, crying, “Please. Please let me die.”

“She has suffered for her actions, though.” Raels tone was much softer, “She was not allowed to die. And that, in itself, is the worst punishment one can have.”

He spoke as though he knew this as a fact. Like it had happened to him. Stile felt sympathetic, both for Rael and for this human.

 _I can’t kill her_ , Stiles murmured _, I can’t kill a human._

“Then don’t,” he felt the smile on his own lips and watched his hand put the barrel of the gun to her forehead, “Let me. You have done so much for me, let me do this for you. Let me make you useful.”

Stiles thought for a moment. This creature wanted to die, and he would be a hero for this. Plus, it’s not like he was the one killing.

_Okay._

And as the bullet went through her head, Stiles faded away.

——-

Derek was at least six miles away this time when he heard Stiles scream. And three miles? Yeah, okay, he had good hearing. Six miles? He was started to question this thing.

But he went running anyway. It didn’t matter how far away he was or how he was supposed to be meeting Scott and his pack to go look for the Harpy. When Stiles was screaming for him, Derek really had no choice.

It took him longer to find him though. He barely made it two miles when the screaming stopped. He followed the echo of it until he caught Stiles’ scent. So he followed that until he came to a clearing and his heart jumped at the smell of blood. But his jaw dropped at what he saw.

The Harpy was a pile of fur on the ground, clearly dead. And Stiles was standing over the body of the human Opheliac, pointing a gun at her. She was dead too.

Wow.

He approached slowly, his mind barely making sense of what happened let alone the _how_. But then he realized he smelt something… different. All around was Stiles scent, but it was permeated by something else now. Something that smelled a bit like… smoke and ash.

“Stiles?” He asked warily. The back of the head he saw quirked sideways.

“Stiles isn’t here right now. Can I take a message?”

The voice was Stiles’ but it also wasn’t. It sounded rushing and dark, and definitely not Stiles. Derek growled loudly as the body turned around. It looked like Stiles, but the eyes were completely black.

“Shit.” He grumbled.

It laughed, “What? No ‘thanks for taking care of my little Harpy problem’?”

“Who are you?” Every hair on Dereks body seemed to be standing on edge. This thing was radiating an evil energy.

“I’m Rael. I’m a-”

“Demon. I got that.”

It smirked and Christ, it looked like Stiles but so different. Dereks stomach felt like it was going to collapse. “You’re clever, huh? But, I knew you’d recognize me. Or rather, what I am.”

“What did you do to Stiles?”

“Don’t worry, he’s here. He’s, uh, sleeping. I think the pressure got to him. I’m just inhabiting his unconscious body.” It walked forward and Derek stepped back, unleashing another deep throated growl. It threw up its hands, “Whoa there, wolfy. I haven’t hurt him or anything. He’s letting me stay here.”

“Then he’s an idiot. I am going to get you out. I know how.”

It laughed, “We both know that if you do that, you’ll harm Stiles quite a bit. I will be leaving in five days. I think you can wait that long.”

Derek wasn’t sure that he could. This felt wrong on so many levels and his mind was spinning. A Demon, in Stiles’ body. It was dirty and it was a nightmare.

“Now, I think Stiles will be a lot less freaked out if he wakes up in bed. Unfortunately, though I am currently human, I still can’t drive his car. Want to give me a lift home, handsome?”

The hairs stood up again, but Derek stood tall and glared at him, “Give me the gun first.”

It laughed and held it out. Derek took it. “I am not going to shoot you. Wouldn’t dream of it. I think Stiles would actually kill me if I tried.”

Derek ignored him and took the gun. He followed him when he started walking, presumably in the direction of the car. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

**To: Scott  
From: Derek**

**Harpy and Opheliac are dead. Don’t even ask. Call the Argents and have them get rid of the bodies. They are about two miles into the forest from the old road, outside the underground cave there.**

He hit send and pocketed his phone and the gun, watching the Demon in Stiles’ body lead him away from the scene of the crime. They walked in silence for about ten minutes. Derek realized that the Demon even walked differently than Stiles. God, this was so wrong. Not even to mention the fact Derek knew how Stiles walked, which he didn’t really want to think about.

Eventually they reached the jeep, and the Demon tossed Derek the keys cheekily and sat in the passenger’s seat. Derek walked around the car and got inside. This wasn’t the first time he had to drive an unconscious Stiles home, but the first a Demon was there instead.

“I don’t know why Stiles likes you so much. You’re too quiet, and a little moody.” It laughed darkly as he started to drive. Despite the bad feelings in his stomach, Dereks heart fluttered at the remark that Stiles liked him.

“Oh! I heard that!” the Demon laughed and Derek shot him a dirty look, “You may be the werewolf but I have great hearing as well. And your heart gives away far too much. It’s the weakness of all humans.”

“I’m not human.”

“No, I guess you aren’t,” He could feel its dark eyes staring into him, “But you have feelings for one.”

Derek turned and remained silent. Shockingly, so did the Demon. It apparently, unlike Stiles, knew when to stop talking and have the last word. A few minutes later they pulled into Stiles’ parking lot. His dad wasn’t home, and Derek breathed a sigh of relief.

“Gonna walk me in, stranger?” It said teasingly, opening the car door. Derek grimaced but opened his door anyway. The least he could do was keep an eye on the thing running Stiles’ body and make sure he was okay. They walked upstairs in more quiet. It felt hostile, really. Mostly because Derek wouldn’t trust a Demon for two fucking seconds, let alone talk to one.

Once in Stiles’ dark room, the Demon started undressing. Derek flushed and looked away.

“Aw, don’t be a stranger. I think we both know Stiles wouldn’t mind you seeing him shirtless.”

“It’s not Stiles right now.” Derek reasoned, getting him another bitter laugh.

“Suit yourself. This body is really good.”

Derek turned furiously to find the Demon gently touching Stiles stomach. Stiles was lean, but he wasn’t really lacking in muscles, especially on his arms. Dereks heart sped up despite himself. The Demon smiled at him, a disturbing sneer.

“You want him. You want this.”

Derek growled at it.

It shrugged and pulled on a different pair of pants and shirt. Derek was disturbed at how it just seemed to know where everything was. It knew too much. It walked around the bed, pulling up the covers, and getting in. But it stopped with its head on the pillow, and then looked over at Derek.

“He loves you.”

Dereks stomach jolted and he frowned deeply. The smell of smoke and ash was suddenly gone, and the breathing coming from the bed was Stiles. He could smell Stiles. Hear him. He dipped his head in relief and ran his fingers through his hair.

Shit.

——-

Stiles didn’t remember anything after the shot. And when he woke up in his bed at 3 a.m. he nearly cried in relief of not being dead. He laid there, feeling fully rested, but his body ached. It was a lot of work being a vessel for a Demon.

He suddenly heard some breathing in the room that wasn’t his. He sat up fast and saw Derek, asleep in his desk chair. His eyes were closed and he was wearing his ever-present frown, with his arms crossed over his chest. Stiles grimaced and wondered what had happened last night for Derek to be passed out in his room. He also felt some retarded butterflies in his stomach at the sight.

He stood up quietly and approached him. Derek was breathing lightly, and he looked totally stoic. Stiles reached out and touched his arm over his sleeve, just gently. Those muscles would kill Stiles one day, he was pretty sure. He tugged lightly on the sleeve and Dereks eyes fluttered open.

“Stiles…”

“Come get in my bed. This looks fucking uncomfortable.”

Derek didn’t argue and shuffled to a standing position for a few seconds. He sat down on the bed and collapsed onto the pillow. Stiles snorted and pulled the blanket over the stupid guy. He walked around to the other side of the bed and sat on it. He glanced up out the window at the almost full-moon outside. Shit, when did his life get so messy?

He hated late at night, thinking thoughts like this. It was always so damn dark.

“Stiles?” Dereks voice didn’t sound so grumpy. Stiles turned and looked at him. His hair was all sticking out and he looked tired, but also concerned.

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

Stiles rubbed his face, “Yeah.”

Derek sat up, “You’re lying.”

“Life is just… pretty messy lately.”

“Does that include the fact you’re letting a Demon take up hotel in your head?” Stiles swung around a looked at him. Derek smirked, “Yeah, I know.”

“Well, shit. Uh, yeah. That would be part of the general mess.”

Derek sighed, “Stiles, how could you be so stupid?”

“I’m actually not that stupid. He was already there, and he says he will leave on his own accord when the full moon comes.”

“Or, we could extract his Demon ass.” Derek growled. He does a lot of that.

“Don’t you think I’ve tried that? It hurt like a mother fucker. If you don’t remember, I ended up in the hospital.” Stiles froze, realizing he had probably said too much.

 “That was because of him?” Dereks eyes looked hurt , “You lied to me.”

Stiles turned away, “Yeah.”

There was silence. Stiles stomach felt like it was rotting. On top of everything, now he lied to Derek and that really, really made him feel like shit. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled his knees up to his chest. Stiles never, ever cried, but sometimes he coped like this.

Suddenly he was being pulled back by strong arms. He felt Dereks chest against his back and felt the breath on his ear.

“It’s okay, Stiles.”

“No, it fucking isn’t.”

“Everyone has secrets, Stiles. I’m not mad you decided to keep yours. I have no right to expect you to tell me anything.”

Stiles was silent for a few minutes. He heard the clock on the wall, and the soft hum of his computer in Hibernate mode. And then there was Dereks breathing, patient and comforting. And suddenly Stiles felt safe and okay, and he wanted to not feel so… heavy.

“I killed my mom.” He said it like it was no big deal. It was. Derek stiffened.

“What?”

“I was seven. We were at home playing games, and I was hungry. This was when my dad was new to the police force, and we didn’t have much money. We had no fridge, so if we wanted food we had to walk up the street and buy it fresh to eat.”

Derek was silent, listening, thinking. He felt like a brick wall against Stiles back.

“I wasn’t even hungry, I just wanted candy. It was night and my dad was at work. He told us not to leave the house because there was a lot of muggings in our area at the time. But I wanted candy and I just… kept pestering her. My mom told me to stay put, and she went to the store to buy it for me. And she never came back.”

“She was attacked.” Dereks voice was soothing, but worried.

“She was dead,” Stiles breathed it out like it was a secret, “I had never seen my dad cry before then.”

Dereks legs wrapped around Stiles sides, and his arms around his stomach. Stiles let his knees fall and opened his eyes to the moon staring at him from outside.

“I’ve done a lot worse than that.” Derek muttered.

“I know.” Stiles laughed dryly, “But if it’s a contest for fucked up, I think you’ve already won.”

Derek chuckled and it vibrated through Stiles. He felt better, like saying it out loud was the cure to most heaviness. He should do this more often. The best part was, Derek didn’t say ‘it’s not your fault’ like most people did. Derek had a lot of guilt on him, too. A family’s death worth of guilt and sadness.

Suddenly Stiles sat up a bit and turned around. Dereks eyes stayed on him in the moonlight, as he set his knees between his legs.

“I don’t care.” Stiles muttered.

“What?”

“I don’t care if you’re fucked up.” He leaned forward and pressed chaste kisses on Dereks lips and face, “I don’t. I don’t. I don’t…”

Derek’s hands went up his face and gripped him still. He stared into his eyes with some mix of affection, desire, and amusement.

“You’re such an idiot.” He said. He didn’t mean it, Stiles knew.

“Mmm don’t care!” Stiles pushed forward, knocking Derek onto his back. He laid over him, supported by his arms and knees, looking down onto him, “You’re hot.”

“You’re confused about your sexuality.”

Stiles scoffed, “I’m not confused about you.”

Derek glanced between his eyes and lips, “Really?”

“Why do you act like that’s a miracle? Wow, Stiles is into a dude, must be Christmas.”

“Because… Ah, nevermind.” Derek leaned up and kissed Stiles’ lips.

“Uh, no.” Stiles pulled back, “What? Tell me.”

Derek shifted awkwardly, “It’s seriously nothing.”

“It’s something,” Stiles said, “Don’t be a sour wolf, Derek.”

Derek sighed, “I’m grateful you have feelings for me because I have wanted you for a long time.”

That caught Stiles off guard, “What? Really?”

“No, Stiles, I am lying.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

“No more questions.”

“Fine,” Stiles stared at him, “Scott knows something is up. With us.”

“Scott should mind his business. I swear he needs a fucking muzzle.”

“I said something similar.”

Stiles arms were getting tired so he lay down on top of Derek instead. If he was honest, he had been dreaming about doing this for a while. Big… stupid muscles and darkness and breathing.

“So, what are we?”

“I said no more questions.” Derek murmured, “Go to sleep Stiles.”


	4. Kenophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenophobia: The fear of emptiness or voids.

Stiles didn’t remember a lot about his mom. He was only seven when she died, so, that was expected. But he did remember her face well. Because when you’re seven and your mom dies, it affects you. You no longer have that person who has been one half of raising you. And it isn’t something you forget.

But he has a reoccurring dream, the clearest memory he has, about her. Especially lately. The moon was full and they were in a… field? There were a lot of trees around but it was a clearing. (His mom always preferred being near nature. He had another memory of her hugging his dad from behind, telling him that they would one day build a cabin in the woods). Everything seems stained with blue. She’s beautiful, and young, smiling at him like things would always be this way.

“Mommy,” Stiles said, his voice was small, “My ears are cold.”

“Put your hood on then.” She sits down and starts playing with the tall grass.

“Well if you didn’t cut my hair, my ears wouldn’t be cold.” He pouted at her and she smiled again, reaching forwards and running her palm over his shaved head.

“I like it. You look adorable.”

“Whatever. I hate it. Why are we here? It’s cold.”

“No it’s not, it’s Summer Solstice,” She pulled him into a sitting position on her lap, despite his squirming. “They say that two worlds come closest together on Summer Solstice. Especially tonight, with the full moon out. The worlds are aligned; the tides go the highest they ever will.”

Stiles is about to remark about it being stupid when he hears a sound. It isn’t close, but not too far. A wolf howls. And Stiles feels fear inside of him, but his mom just laughs her laugh that sounds like a rushing river and everything good.

——-

Stiles wakes up to his dad coming into his room, and momentarily forgets his dream in lieu of freaking out. But there’s no point, because Derek isn’t even here anymore. But his window is wide open.

Huh.

“What is your problem?” His dad raised a suspicious eyebrow at his miniature spaz attack.

“Ah, nothing, you scared me. What do you want?” Stiles ran his hand over his shaved head, remembering the dream fondly.

“Scott is at the door.”

Stiles groaned for a moment. After the completely… awkward conversation and Stiles just taking off, he wasn’t looking forward to his best friends puppy eyes and an apology. Stiles should probably apologize too.

And then he realized something.

He had been sleeping with Derek Hale possibly all night. And Scott was a WEREWOLF. There was no way he wasn’t going to smell it on him and damn, that was an awkward conversation he wasn’t having with Scott today. Or ever. Plus he didn’t know if Derek even wanted anyone to know and well, if Scott smelled him he would know.

“Tell him to go away.” Stiles stood up and stretched his arms. He felt crazy stiff from his sleeping position on Dereks chest.

“Really?” His dad frowned.

“Yeah. We kind of fought and I need to cool down.” And take a shower, thoroughly washing werewolf-stench off.

His dad shrugged and closed the door, vanishing downstairs. Stiles wasted no time disposing of his clothes and heading for the shower. He turned it on and faced the mirror, allowing the water to heat up. He frowned. He had a bruise on his chest over his heart. He touched it and suddenly remembered Derek pressing his thumb into Stiles after they kissed the first time.

Well, that was pretty arousing. Derek left his mark on Stiles, and it was still there.

_How about you don’t masturbate in the shower? I like you but not nearly that much._

“Oh, screw off.” Stiles smirked, “You’re jealous of my totally hot werewolf cuddle buddy.”

_I met him and believe me, his personality kind of kills it for me._

“Oh yeah,” Stiles got into the shower and let the hot water rush over him. He shivered, “What did you say to him anyway?”

_Well after your subconscious so politely blacked out, I needed a ride to get your body home. He drove your car_

“Sorry about passing out. But Derek doesn’t seem to like you at all.”

A dark chuckle.  _That’s because he loves you and doesn’t want me hurting you._

Stiles grabbed the soap and started getting to work, “Derek Hale doesn’t love me.”

_I have been on Earth a lot longer than you have. And I know when two people love each other._

“He barely likes me, really. He still threatens to rip out my jugular on a regular basis.”

_I think that’s just his personality._

Stiles laughed, “It is. He’s naturally unfriendly and angry all the time. Besides, wasn’t it you telling me Derek was a monster three days ago?”

_He is a monster. I do not doubt your love for him or his love for you. But love between monsters and humans rarely ends well._

“You seem like you know that from experience.”

_I do._

Stiles stopped scrubbing for a second, “Can I ask, or is that personal?”

_It’s personal, but I don’t mind sharing. It wasn’t a long time ago. Perhaps thirty years. I had a lively male vessel and I fell in love with a young woman. Of course, all good things come to an end. And when she saw my true Demon side she ran. And I never blamed her for doing so._

Stiles ran the soap over his arms, “That really sucks. I think she should have loved you anyway. That’s how love works, you work through the bad things.”

_Some creatures are too evil to love. Whether or not they have a softness, there are two sides to every coin. Everyone breaks._

“I’m not afraid of Derek.” Stiles muttered, scrubbing his face, “Not even in his wolf form.”

_We shall see._

“Since you’re leaving in three days, I doubt you’ll be seeing much.” Stiles snorted jokingly.

_Don’t be so sure. The next full moon falls on the thirtieth of April._

Stiles frowned, “What’s so special about April thirtieth?” Silence surrounded him. Of course now Rael decided it would be a good time to be quiet. Stiles groaned.

He finished his shower thoroughly scrubbed and clean, hoping he erased all the ungodly smells. Just in case, though, he added extra deodorant and cologne. Once he had boxers on and felt really clean, he left the bathroom and retreated to his bed for his phone, which was still in his pants from last night. He found two texts waiting for him

**To: Stiles  
From: Scott**

**Really dude? Having your dad send me away at the door? Can we talk today plz?**

**To: Stiles  
From: Derek**

**I had to leave to do some pack stuff. Full moon on Tuesday.**

**To: Scott  
From: Stiles**

**I was asleep! Let’s talk later. Let me know when &where.**

**To: Derek  
From: Stiles**

**It’s fine, my dad totally came in w/out knocking anyway. That would have been embarrassing. Hey, do you know what’s special about April 30?**

Stiles set down his phone and got dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. It occurred to him that Rael would have had to undress him last night. Which was fine, but not if Derek was there. That would have been mortifying. His phone buzzed twice.

**To: Stiles  
From: Derek**

**No? Why?**

**To: Stiles  
From: Scott**

**Library in a half hour? Alison has to do some research so she’s dragging me there. Then will you explain what happened w/ the Harpy? Derek won’t text me back.**

**To: Derek  
From: Stiles**

**The demon mentioned it like it was important.**

**To: Scott  
From: Stiles**

**Yeah, see you then.**

Stiles yawned and headed for the door. He was about to pocket his phone when it started ringing. He frowned and hit answer without checking who it was.

“Hello?”

“FUCK.”

“Um, good morning to you too, Derek.” Stiles opened the door and headed down the stairs, “Any reason for that rage?”

“April thirtieth. Beltane.”

Stiles grabbed an apple and nodded at his dad who was drinking his coffee and looking sour, “You lost me. What exactly is Beltane?”

“It’s a Pagan holiday. One of the eight Sabbats.”

“Like Summer Solstice and Halloween?”

“Yes.” Dereks voice sounded nervous and genuinely wrecked.

Stiles decided against the apple and grabbed his wallet and keys instead, heading out the door, “Okay, so what is so important about it?”

“I don’t know. It’s believed that all Pagan holidays are when the supernatural are most susceptible to certain parts of their wild side, especially shapeshifters. The crossing over of two parts of a soul into each other. I’ve been told to beware when the holidays fall on full moons because bad things happen. Since I’ve never experienced one, I don’t know what effect it could have.”

Stiles gulped and got into his car, “Okay, no big deal. We can lock up you and the pack and Scott for the night, problem solved.”

“We should talk to Deaton. He might know more.”

“Okay, so let’s talk to him.”

“Let’s go now, Stiles.”

“I can’t! I have to meet Scott and talk to him about our ‘feelings’ and then explain what happened with the Harpy yesterday. And I don’t even know what to tell him.”

“Tell him the truth.” Dereks voice was low and serious.

“I can’t do that. I don’t even want to know what Scott will have to say about this Demon. I’ll tell him after the full moon.”

“Then tell him… I disabled the Harpy, the Opheliac shot it, and then you shot her.”

“NO.” Stiles blurted.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t kill her! Rael did. I have a strict, no-murdering-humans policy and I’d rather not have everyone think that blood is on my hands.”

“Then tell them I killed her.”

Stiles gulped, “I can’t do that either.”

“Well shit, Stiles. This really isn’t my problem! You have the Demon!” Derek was getting annoyed.

“Are you insinuating that I asked for this to happen to me? Because I didn’t.” Stiles gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“No, I’m just saying, deal with your shit. Scott didn’t ask to become a werewolf either, but he did and he’s dealing with  _his_  shit.”

“Yeah, but not alone! Why are you being such a dick?”

Derek growled, low and predatorily, “Just… I’ll go see Deaton alone or something. This is a pack problem and you don’t need to be involved.”

At the sound of the click, Stiles threw his phone on the floor and slammed his hand on the wheel, sending out a loud honk from his jeep. He wanted to fucking scream.

_I’m sorry._

Stiles gritted his teeth and dug his keys out of his pocket, “Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault he’s a fucking prick.”

_If I wasn’t here he wouldn’t be angry._

“If you weren’t here I’d probably be dead.”

——

“I’m sorry I said that,” Scott was definitely overflowing with puppy-dog eyes. They sat in a quiet table at the Library while Alison looking into some very, very old looking books.

“It’s fine. I overreacted.” Stiles replied easily.

“It’s not fine. If you want to be with Derek I will support anything you decide to do.”

“You’re a good wife, Scott.”

Scott grinned, “Anyway, what happened last night with the Harpy? All I knew was that we were supposed to go find it, and the Derek is telling me it’s dead.”

Stiles bit hard on his lip for a second, and then finally spoke, “I can’t tell you right now. Trust me that I have a good reason, and when the full moon is over, I’ll tell you everything.”

Scott just nodded, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

“Also, there’s one more thing.”

“Yeah?”

“According to Derek, the next full moon lands on Beltane..? Which is apparently a Pagan holiday.”

“Okay, so?” Scott looked confused. So adorably dumb.

“So apparently bad, unnatural shit will happen to you guys Tuesday night. Like, you-need-to-be-locked-up kind of bad.” Stiles clenched and unclenched his hands nervously.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah. Derek is going to talk to Deaton to see if he knows anything about it today.”

“Maybe you should go with him?” Scott suggested, “I mean, I trust you more to tell me what Deaton says more than Derek.”

Stiles looked away, “No. Derek is being a huge asshole.”

“Isn’t he… always a huge asshole?”

“More than usual. He bitched at me for stuff I can’t control, basically told me I’m on my own dealing with it, and then said seeing Deaton was ‘pack stuff’ and I should stay out of it.”

“Well that’s kind of fucked up.”

“And Tuesday he’s probably going to make me stay in my damn house all night. Once again, pack stuff going down, without me there.” Scott looked at the table suddenly and shifted like he was guilty. Stiles grimaced, “What?”

“I kind of agree with him there. I mean, not that it isn’t your stuff to deal with, because it is. But when stuff is going down and we can’t protect you… Sometimes, maybe it’s just better to not have to worry about you. You’re just-”

“Useless.” Stiles said quietly. It felt like a scream. He wanted to scream.

Scott sighed, “Human.”

Stiles stood up, “So is Alison.” He turned to leaved.

“Stiles!” Scott stood up loudly, “Come on!”

Stiles turned and doubled back a bit, “You know what? It’s fine. Don’t worry.” He laughed probably the fakest laugh in the world, “I just have to head back home. Catch you later.”

“Stiles…” But he was already across the room heading towards the door. And shit, tears were streaming down his face now. So much for never, ever crying.

——-

Five o’ clock found Stiles up the mountain, far away from civilization. He had gone home for approximately five seconds to grab an old book, grateful his dad was already at work because he couldn’t stop crying. And then he jumped in his car and drove so far into the woods, no one could possibly find him. He found a particularly comfy looking bunch of grass and lay down in the sun, reading.

After his mom died, Stiles spent all of his time reading. He used to be a constant visitor of the Library, and his dad would buy him books as gifts. It was the best way to occupy his mind, really, when he didn’t want to think. So that was what he was determined to do now. He was five hours in and pretty engrossed in the fifth Harry Potter book, but his mind kept straying.

He bookmarked his page and set it down. He stood up and stretched his aching back. He supposed he should go check his phone, since he hadn’t since he threw it on the floor of his car. When he got there, though, there was nothing. No missed calls or texts. And somehow that made him feel ever worse.

So he went back to reading.

——-

He finally dragged his body, aching from laying on the solid ground all day, home at eight. Shockingly, when he did get through the front doors, Derek was sitting on his couch (now standing up) like it was no big thing.

“What the fuck?” Stiles said loudly.

“Stiles, language.” His dad walked in and Stiles paled. His dad only sort-of knew he and Derek were friends, and he showed his obvious distaste for the idea at all, Derek being a suspected murdered earlier this year. What the hell was going on?

Stiles groaned, “I knew I should have stayed out there.”

“Derek has been waiting for you for an hour. I eventually had to tell him to come inside because it’s getting dark. Now please do something with him, because I am going to bed.” And just like that, his dad was gone. No disapproving glares or anything.

“Come take a drive with me.” Derek said. He had his hands shoved in his pockets and those eyes glued to Stiles since he walked in.

“Um, I don’t know if you knew this but,” Stiles flung his arms out, “You’re a total assface, and I am not going anywhere with you!”

“Stiles.” It sounded like a warning. But he wasn’t afraid of any egotistical werewolves, especially not this one. And after wallowing in his misery and feeling like total shit all day, he was really, really fucking angry.

“No,” He shook his head, “Fuck off.”

“Please. I need to talk to someone. I need to talk to you.”

Stiles pointed angrily to nothing in particular, “I have had, like, the worst week ever. Do you get that? The worst EVER! Everyone at school thinks I am a freak because I had a meltdown in the form of smashing my hand into a mirror. On a similar note, I was HOSPITALIZED and I had stitches. And everyone is treating me like a little fragile kid, which I am NOT by the way. I’m being possessed by a Demon that I can’t get rid of without harming and possibly killing myself. Now, come to find out all my friends agree that I am the weakest link in any pack, ever. Which is just AWESOME since I dedicate all my time and basically betray my dad’s trust on a weekly basis for you people just to find out I’m useless. And now, the total douche who can hurt me the most and DID is standing here, in my house, like nothing happened at all. So… screw you!”

His rant had him actually panting. He was still irritated and annoyed, but yelling at Dereks stupid face, he actually felt a lot better. Derek didn’t even seemed phased besides his eyes becoming more puppy-dog (was that a werewolf thing?). He approached Stiles and stopped in front of him.

“Are you done yelling?”

Stiles gulped, “Yeah.”

“Tell me to leave right now, and I will.” Derek said. How one sentence could sounds so sad and hold so much was impossibly haunting. What Derek was actually saying was,  _tell me to go and I won’t come back. No more anything and we’ll go back to being barely friends. You’ll be safe and you won’t have to deal with me and my moodiness anymore._

Stiles bit his lip. That was a lot of pressure. But really, having Derek this close to him mentally made him want to keep trying. Even if he got mad.

So he reached out and took his hand, and looked up into his eyes.

“Stay.”

Derek smiled, “I will. Want to go on that drive now?”

“Yeah. I’m still mad at you, though.”

Derek dragged him out towards his black Camaro (which in retrospect, Stiles should have seen when he drove up) and they got in. But Derek didn’t put in the keys. He just sat there and looked straight ahead.

“Deaton said it depends on all of us if something bad happens Tuesday. Beltane will bring out the more wild side of us if our hearts are more susceptible to give in to it.”

“Okay… And what if someone does give into it?”

“They go full wolf. And they could bring chaos on this town and kill and destroy and no one can really stop it.”

“Wow. Alright, that’s… pretty bad.”

Derek is still staring ahead, “I don’t think I can do it.”

“Do what?”

“Stay human.”

Stiles breathed and reached over, taking his hand, “I think you’ll be fine.”

“I have no humanity to anchor on to. I’m not worried about Scott or Isaac. They anchor with feelings of love and affection and human feelings. I latch onto my anger which is basically a primal instinct. I don’t know how to stay human if those things start taking me over.”

“Derek, you’ll be fine. Worst case we can lock you up, and do it good this time. I’ll even help.”

“No,” Derek swung around to look at him harshly, “No. You aren’t allowed to come anywhere near me. If I wolf out and I come at you…”

“You won’t hurt me.” Stiles soothed.

“You don’t know that. Number one rule, you are staying far away from the werewolves on the full moon.”

“I knew you were going to fucking say that. I am so sick of being so useless. I can’t even help you. I can’t help anyone.”

Derek looked struck, “You’re not useless.”

“Yeah, I’m not really convinced but thanks.” Stiles muttered bitterly.

“I’m serious, Stiles.” He gripped his hand tightly and was looking sincerely at him, “You’re smart. You’re the backbone. You keep us all from killing each other. You lead us the right way.”

“I’m pathetically human.”

“You’re important to us. That’s why I am telling you not to come to me, Tuesday. If I killed you, we’d be lost. And screwed.”

It sounds pretty sincere so Stiles decides not to question it. Though honestly, he’s still so doubtful. He also half-wants Derek to say he’d be lost if Stiles died.

“I’ll stay in on the full moon. But I will NOT be happy about it.”

“Like you’re still angry at me?”

“Yes.”

Derek leaned over and pressed a kiss on Stiles cheek.

“Is that an apology?” Stiles was glad it was dark, because yeah, he might have been blushing.

“Yeah.” Derek slid his hand over Stiles cheek and turned his face, kissing his lips.

“We really need to stop doing this,” Stiles murmured against warm lips, “It really doesn’t help with my general confusion about life.”

Derek laughed, “Shut up, Stiles.”

“Fine.” He slid his tongue into Dereks mouth and followed his instructions. He pushed forward into him and groaned. Dereks hands wandered down Stiles chest and over his stomach.

“Bedroom,” Stiles squeaked. Derek pulled back and eyes him suspiciously.

“Are you-”

“I’m going to stab you. Don’t even ask that question.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Are you sure.”

“Aren’t I always?” Stiles grinned and opened the car door, “See you soon.”

He practically ran inside and watched Derek drive off, probably to stash his car somewhere where his dad wouldn’t see it. Stiles was on the stairs, in fact, when his dad suddenly appeared at the top.

“Want to tell me why the person I like the least was sitting outside of my house for an hour waiting for you?”

“Ah, not really.”

“I heard you yelling.”

“I do that a lot lately, I think I should see a therapist for anger management. Can I go now?” Stiles tried to walk forward but his dad moved to block him.

“Stiles, you don’t yell. Is something wrong? Did he harm you?”

Stiles groaned, “No. I’m kind of pissy. I’m still mad at Scott too, it’s not like… JUST Derek. But he’s the only one who has apologized.”

“Why are you mad?”

Stiles blinked and decided the truth might be best, “They’re making me feel useless, okay? I feel useless. I can’t help them with anything.”

His dad eyes him with a gentler look, “Yeah, I know that feeling.”

That caught Stiles off guard. He never thought about how useless his dad might feel with Stiles running around behind his back and getting hurt and lying to him.

“I’m sorry.” Stiles said. It was the best he could do, really. Telling his dad everything was a nice idea in theory, but he knew it would only put him in danger. And on the list of things Stiles wasn’t okay with, that probably made the top.

His dad smiled sadly, “I know.” And then he retreated back to his room. Stiles took a minute to lean against the wall and breathe deeply and tell himself it was better this way. Because it was.

He made his way into his dark room and locked the door behind him this time. But when he turned around, there was no brooding werewolf waiting for him. He furrowed his brows and pulled out his phone.

**To: Stiles  
From: Derek**

**I wasn’t sure.**


	5. Daemonophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daemonophobia: The fear of demons.

It isn’t that Derek doesn’t want Stiles in every way imaginable, because he does.

He was taught from a very young age that wolf affection and sexual desire were just that. When you saw something, and you wanted it, there was no point being confused about your sexuality or panicking. It was just another thing you wanted. And there was no point trying to deny it, because it was hormones and primal instinct and it happened.

But Derek didn’t really expect to feel so conflicted, either.

He had all these feelings for Stiles he didn’t really understand. No one irritated him more. Because Stiles was a little soft human but he was so fucking stubborn, and he knew too much and he was so noisy and annoying and never stopped talking. No matter where they went, Stiles was there running his mouth and either saving them or nearly getting killed. He had a fierce loyalty to Scott even when Scott was a hormonal bag of douche. And Stiles was so insanely vulnerable. Emotionally, since he obviously covered up an ocean of sadness and guilt underneath a hard layer of sarcasm, and physically, since he was the only one of them who couldn’t protect himself if he was alone and cornered.

These things all added up to Derek punching his fist through a brick wall back at the warehouse after leaving Stiles alone. He wanted to murder Stiles half the time because he never listened. He wanted to kiss Stiles the rest of the time because all these qualities were so amazingly attractive. Even the vulnerable part, because he wanted to be the person to make protect him.

But it was dangerous. So even though he didn’t want to, he had to restrict himself. Marking Stiles as his put him in a lot of danger with future and current enemies. He didn’t even want to think about how the hunters might react to another human mate. If anyone got to Stiles, they could get to Derek. Not to even mention that if something went wrong with Derek in his wolf form, he could kill Stiles himself.

It was more than a little messy.

So for now Derek wanted to take this slow. He was ignoring the primal instinct to climb Stiles Stilinski like a tree so he could take a second and really think. And since Stiles wasn’t replying to his text, he realized exactly how it all must seem. Like he didn’t want him at all that way.

He growled and heard a soft noise behind him. He spun around to see Erica looking at him with concerned eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Go away.”

“Bullshit Derek.” She said softly, approaching him, “Is this about Stiles?”

“Wha… How- Why do you think this is about him?” Derek was stumbling and fuck, now it was obvious. She was grinning.

“I’m not stupid. You seem to be, though. He’s so insanely… human. He’s cute, sure. But the way he’s going, he’s like a ticking time bomb. The question isn’t if he’s going to die, but when.”

Derek growls deep in his throat in warning. He knows she’s right, though. But Derek will go down saving Stiles before that happens.

She throws up her hands, “I’m just saying, it probably isn’t a great idea to be attached.”

“Shut up and get out of my face.”

She approached him and reached up, touching his face softly and giving him a downright filthy look, “You know, if you want to fuck someone dangerous, you don’t have to stoop as low as Stiles.”

“Oh, and stoop so low as you?” He pushed her off, “Go make yourself useful somewhere else.”

She shrugged it off, “Whatever. But I told you so.”

——-

Rael didn’t understand what was happening.

It was like Stiles was fading away. Like he was in freefall, like he was drowning. He watched it all implode with watchful eyes and Stiles began to tremble and fall into his bed. If Rael hadn’t already experienced a panic attack in this body, he would have though that’s what this was. But no, this was very different. Stiles emotions flowed through Rael like blood these days, and they weren’t really hitting him now. It was a sensation he knew a lot about.

It was giving up.

 _Stiles, you need to breathe._  It was probably pointless but he might as well try.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.” It was a whisper. A dead whisper.

_You can and I thoroughly believe in you._

Stiles shuddered and Rael felt THAT. A wave of sadness and pain washing and leaving.

“Take me.” He choked.

_What?_

“It’s like sleeping, right?” Stiles stared at the ceiling, “If you take me. Take me and do what you want.”

_You don’t know what you’re saying._

“Just for a little bit,” Stiles sobbed, “Just for a few days. I can’t, I can’t… I can’t do this. It’s too much.” It didn’t matter what Stiles was saying because Rael suddenly felt like he didn’t have a choice. Stiles was checking out, mentally. It was sort of terrifying.

“Okay.” Rael said, surprised at how loud he sounded. And just like that, he was in control. Stiles was gone.

——-

Monday rolled around and Rael had spent a lot of time Sunday wracking Stiles memories to figure out how to drive this God damn piece of shit jeep. There was still no sign of Stiles’ consciousness, and Rael knew that the only way to wake him up might be to leave his body. And he was still deciding whether or not he wanted to do that.

So Monday came and Rael was driving very carefully to the high school. He was aware that he could control his eyes and look identical to Stiles, but he couldn’t control the fact they were two very different souls. It’s not like he could magically become an obnoxious, talkative, and reckless teenage boy over night. So today might require its fair share of acting.

His first test came almost as soon as he exited the blue death trap Stiles called a car. The handsome tan boy approached him. What was his name? Ah, yes. Danny.

“Hey Stiles,” He approached looking awkward. “Remember the conversation we had last week?”

“Uh, which one?” Rael didn’t sound like Stiles to himself, but most humans wouldn’t notice.

“The one where you said you might be into dudes.”

Ah, yes. Rael remembered that conversation in detail because it was so completely awkward. In all of Stiles ideas on how to figure out his sexuality (which were all completely fucking stupid) he somehow decided to talk to the only gay guy like that would clear things up.

“Yeah,” Rael glanced away awkwardly, “Uh, don’t worry about that. I figured it out.”

“So… are you? Into guys, I mean.”

“I guess I’m… Into what I’m into?” Which really was what Stiles had decided so it wasn’t like, a lie.

Danny stared and then nodded, “That’s pretty cool, Stiles.”

“Yeah…” Luckily just then the bell rang for class, and Rael basically ran to get away from that situation.

One thing Rael could never understand about the current human world was how they threw their children into schools to sit for six hours a day, all week, every week, for twelve years. And Rael was amazed that simple human brains didn’t find it too tedious to handle. The classes were too easy, possibly because Rael knew too much. He skipped Gym all together so he wouldn’t have to answer Dannys questions, and watched them play sports from a safe distance instead.

He knew he couldn’t be irresponsible. He had spent a great many days as a quiet observer on Stiles’… less than average life. Enough days to grow fond of it and know exactly the effect he had. Rael liked listening to Scott talk about Alison. He liked the friendship Scott and Stiles had developed over the years. He liked Stiles’ dad and the way they so easily got along, a relationship so different than most between father and son. Most of all, Rael had grown to like Derek. Or at least, the way Derek treated Stiles. Like a child and like a king, full of praise and protection and so much love it was practically bursting out of him, though no one (especially not Stiles) could see that. And Stiles, of course, felt the same.

He supposed he had gained a certain… sentiment for this group of people and mostly, for Stiles himself. So no, Rael wasn’t about to take off, steal, murder, like he used to. He had never felt this sort of connection to a vessel before. He was hell bent and determined not to fuck up everything and everyone by deciding to steal Stiles and make the run.

At lunch he found Scott, Alison, Jackson, and Lydia all crowded into one table talking quietly. Rael sat down and almost wondered what was going on until he heard.

“-and Derek says it might make the wolves more likely to turn wild. So he wants everyone’s help on this one.” Scott was saying.

Ugh. Rael almost wished he hadn’t said anything to Stiles about Beltane. The utter chaos that would have ensued and their surprise might have been hilarious.

“So what does Derek want from US?” Lydia was muttering. Above all else, Rael despised her and didn’t understand why she was even here. She was stuck up and rude and he’d like to kill her.

“He didn’t say. He wants us all to meet after school at the warehouse with him and his pack. And we’re supposed to discuss our options, I think.”

“What options?” Rael piped up, “You’re all going to go full wolf and brutally murder everyone. There aren’t a whole lot of options.”

They all looked at him, finally noticing that he had arrived. Fucking hell.

“We could lock them up.” Alison suggested.

“Yeah, and has that ever worked before? St- I locked Scott to a radiator and he got out. Derek locked his pack up tight with chains and they got out. YOU locked Scott in a FREEZER and he still got out. Now the wolves might be even more powerful, and there’s no other freaking wolves to stop them if they escape. Sound like we’re boned? Good, because we are.”

They all stared at him. “Dude,” Scott piped up, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I just think we should be realistic.” He felt uncomfortable with so many eyes on him. He should have kept his mouth shut.

And then Jackson saved the day, “I hate to say it, but Stiles is right. We can’t keep being optimistic about this locking up idea working when it hasn’t worked at all. We need a new plan.”

Scott sighed, “Yeah. We’ll talk to Derek about it. Remember, after school. Warehouse.”

“Fine,” Lydia stood up, “It’s not like we have important things like jobs and extracurriculars or anything.”

“They aren’t important. Full moon is  _tomorrow_. So skip whatever you have going on.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed her tray, going to leave. Jackson stood up and followed her, leaving just Rael with the two love-birds.

Scott turned on him, “Hey, are you still pissed about Saturday?”

“I wasn’t pissed to begin with.”

“Really? Could have fooled me after you  _stormed off._ ”

“I said I was fine, Scott. Maybe I really, really just had to leave the situation.”

Scott tapped his fingers and exchanged looks with Alison, “We just don’t want you to feel like… left out or anything. Because you’re vital to this pack, really.”

“I know.” Rael said. And it wasn’t a lie. He knew Stiles was important even though Stiles didn’t, “But I’m not coming to the meeting after school.”

“What? Why? Dude, you have to.”

“Derek already told me I’ll be under house arrest Tuesday night, so what’s the point?” _Also, I’m a Demon and he’s the only one who can sense me and I’d rather not have his shit today._

“He specifically asked for you to come today. He looks pretty wrecked from the stress of this, and you know him better than I do. Maybe you can help.”

Rael tried hard not to laugh at the irony. In reality he’d probably push Derek’s stress to a new level once he figured out Stiles was on mental vacation and a DEMON was here to stay. The thought almost made him giddy. Maybe it would be entertaining after all.

“I’ll come. But I’m telling you, Derek is just going to make me stay home on Tuesday.”

“Since when does Derek tell you what to do?” Alison let out. They both stared at her like they were seeing her for the first time. Rael had almost forgotten she was there. “I mean, you’re not in his pack. And you’re stubborn. Even if he tells you no, you should be hell bent on coming anyway. I know we’ll need you.”

Rael smirked. What she said was true. What he knew of Stiles said he never listened to any ‘stay put’ or ‘don’t come’ if he didn’t want to. And Stiles wouldn’t let any freaking sour werewolf spoil the fun. Not even the fun, really. It was Stiles’ duty to do this. To be here for his friends. Which made it Raels duty too.

“Alright. I guess I’m coming Tuesday then.”

——-

Rael wasn’t in the warehouse for two seconds before he felt Dereks stare cold and hard on the back of his head. He stayed close to Scott and Alison in hopes that he wouldn’t try to corner him quite yet. And then he shot Derek a smirk and let the blackness overcome his eyes for just a half second. He could practically hear the growl from here. But that’s okay. If there’s one thing Rael wasn’t afraid of, it was werewolves too in love with this vessel to do anything.

He took a seat between Scott and Boyd on one of the shitty torn-up couches down here. Alison settled on Scotts lap and Erica and Isaac were occupying another whole couch. Lydia and Jackson teetered on the edge of the group like the outsiders they probably were.

Derek didn’t take his eyes off of Rael for a few seconds, just glaring him down. Rael returned the glare with a wink and the alpha finally turned away.

“We need a plan of action. The full moon is tomorrow and it might be our worst yet. I can’t assume any of us will be able to resist the change.”

“Not even you?” Isaac piped up in confusion, “Aren’t you the alpha? Papa wolf, born with this shit?”

“No. Not even me. It brings out the far wilder sides of us. We need the humans more than usual; they might be the only ones who can keep us under locks.”

“Stiles pointed out today that locking you up really doesn’t sound like an amazing plan,” Jackson said, “And I agree.”

“Yeah, I know that. I’m thinking our best bet will be to get as far away from civilization as possible.”

“Er, I don’t know if you know this, but we’re in California.” Rael said. Derek practically jumped at the sound of his voice.

“I know that, asshole.”

“Wait,” Alison said. Everyone turned and looked at her, “There’s a bunker about an hour or so from here. My dad used to take me hunting up there as a kid, and we saw it. It’s not destroyed and its cement. If we could find a way to lock you guys in there…”

“Is it secluded? In case we get out,” Scott asked.

“Yeah. It’s in the middle of woods, up a mountain a bit. It’s a little bit of a hike but it’s at least five miles from any highway and a lot of trees.”

Everyone turned to look expectantly at Derek, who had his arms crossed and appeared to be thinking.

“Can you lead us there?” He finally asked.

Alison nodded, “Yeah, I think so. Like I said, it’ll take about an hour to drive there. And then maybe another thirty minutes to climb to the bunker.”

“We should also probably bring some chains. I mean, it can’t hurt,” Erica said, “I mean, keep us from killing each other for a bit.”

“Alright. We’ll leave right after you’re all out of school. I’d like to get there and locked up before the sun even thinks about setting.”

“And what are we supposed to tell our parents?” Lydia bitched, “Oh by the way, mom and dad, I’ll be a sixty miles away in a forest making sure werewolves don’t kill anyone all night. See you tomorrow.”

“Tell them you’re at a party or something,” Isaac rolled his eyes.

“On a Tuesday?”

Derek growled, “Look, I don’t care what you tell them. But don’t expect to be home until tomorrow morning.”

“What?” Jackson frowned,”What are WE supposed to do while you all are howling out angst in a cement bunker all night?”

“Stop us if we escape.”

“How?”

Derek stared intensely, “By killing us.”

“What?” Alison, Lydia, and Jackson all said at the same time. Scott looked away nervously, obviously already having been in on this plan. Raels heart sped up and he felt Stiles’ lingering emotions pumping inside of him. Could he kill a werewolf, even a dangerous one?

Derek glanced at him for half a second before turned around and grabbing a duffle bag off the floor. He settled it down on the table in front of all of them and unzipped it.

“I have five shot guns and a crossbow.” He eyed Alison, “I got all of this and wolfbane bullets, wolfbane bolts, from Chris Argent.”

“Hell no,” Alison stood up, “If you think I am shooting any of you with that stuff you are crazy.”

Scott sighed, “Alison, hopefully you won’t even have to. We just want a backup plan, and we want you all to be able to protect yourselves if we attack you.”

“And I’m not having any more human blood on our hands,” Derek grunted, “You either stop us or let us kill. That’s your choice I guess.”

Alison looked torn.

“I think it’s a good idea,” Jackson muttered, “We should be able to protect ourselves. And everyone else.”

“I think it’s a  _great_  idea,” Rael stood up and approached the table. Derek glared at him with warning eyes and Rael let Stiles’ own eye go black as he picked up one of the shotguns, “Gives us a fighting chance against the things that go bump in the night.”

“That’s a joke that you think you’re allowed to come, Stiles,” Erica barked from behind him. He let his eyes settle and look at her, “At least I trust the rest of these people with a gun. You might shoot yourself in the foot.”

“Oh yeah? And who is the one that shot the Harpy and killed that bitch Opheliac all by himself with nothing but a handgun and his smarts?” Rael laughed darkly and turned back to face the gun heavy in his hands, “Oh yeah. Me.”

There was a small “what?” from someone and they began muttering amongst themselves. Oops.

Derek leaned across the table and muttered so just they could hear, “Stiles promised me he wouldn’t come.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course Stiles would come, even if he said he wouldn’t.” Rael smirked, “I’m just fulfilling his wishes.”

Rael set the gun down and turned away, walking back past everyone who was staring hard at him now. Instead of taking his seat back on the couch he stood at the back.

Derek ran his hand through his hair, “Anyway, we’ll meet at the school and leave at 3, sharp. Scott, your pack will drive with Alison. My pack will take my car. And Stiles,” He sneered, “You just volunteered to drive me and the guns there.”

“Fine.” Rael muttered.

They smoothed out the details but Rael had stopped paying attention. Stiles wasn’t going to be happy that everyone now thought he had murdered a human. But he would have to get over it because it was said and done now. Rael had never been the best at keeping his mouth shut.

The meeting apparently ended, because everyone was standing up and shuffling amongst themselves. Rael stayed put as Jackson and Lydia vanished, talking in low voices. Then Scott and Alison, her clearly not talking to him at this point, left. Boyd and Isaac lingered at the door and Rael watched Erica get a little too far in Dereks personal space for his comfort. He glared and watched them hiss at each other. She turned and looked at him, winking. Then the three of them were gone, and Rael and Derek were the only ones left.

Then Derek shot forward and slammed him against the wall.

“What the fuck are you doing in control of his body?”

“Whoa there tiger, don’t want to harm the goods!” Rael sneered, “Though I think Stiles seriously gets off on you shoving him into things.”

“Answer the question.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not here against his will. He volunteered to let me have the reigns for a few days.”

“Why the hell would he do that?” Derek shoved into him again and Rael was getting really tired of this.

“Because, after pushing everything under for a few years, something is bound to give when a person feels so completely worthless they don’t want be alive. He was slipping away, he was giving up. He told me to take him. So I did.” At his last words, Rael pushed hard into Dereks chest. Luckily his Demon strength gave him enough power to push a werewolf halfway across the room. Derek looked shocked and fell to the floor. Rael advanced quickly and slammed his foot into Dereks chest, pinning him, “I could kill you now for making him feel that way.”

Derek glared, “Sentimental towards him?”

“Protective, maybe. He’s a fragile little kid and I’ve grown fond.”

Dereks eyes glowed red and he knocked Raels leg, tripping him. He fell and felt pain sting through him at the blow.

“It’s a ballsy thing to think you could kill me,” Derek was on his feet growling, bearing sharp teeth, “But you’re still in a human body, and I am a monster.”

Rael jumped to his feet and stood tall, eyes black and smiling widely, “We’re both monsters here. But you have something I really don’t,” He pounced forward at top speed, knocking Derek back and slamming him into the brick wall, “A weakness.”

He kissed Derek then. And sure enough to everything he had felt, this exploded inside of him. All of Stiles’ emotions and love pouring through him without being dulled by the wall separating Human and Demon. And Derek melted underneath him, kissing back hard and wet. Rael smirked in triumph when Derek let out a moan. He pulled away and stared at him with black eyes.

“And that makes you far more human than me.” He laughed. He turned and walked away, headed for the door. Then Derek called out to him.

“You better be out of his body before the sun rises on the full moon. Or I’ll remove you myself.”

“Even if it kills Stiles?” He called back.

“Even if it kills Stiles.”


	6. Hemophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hemophobia: The fear of blood.

Rael sat on Stiles’ bed and stared at his bloodied fist. Throwing Derek across the room was a surefire way to open up stitches; at least he knew that now.

Demons didn’t have a lot of things going on for them, aside from the whole body-possessing and being basically immortal thing, maybe some heightened senses. But when they used their energy, they could muster up some extra strength and speed and healing powers. So Rael focused on the skin cells and watched the cut heal up, leaving nothing but a thin scar and lots of drying blood.

It was the least he could do. It was his fault Stiles punched the mirror in the first place.

He stood up and walked into the bathroom, letting the water run over his hand and wash the blood away. He gripped the counter and tried to ignore the fact he felt significantly weaker after his use of strength in the warehouse and now the healing.

He shouldn’t be this weak. But he had been floating, a darkness, a nothingness, for twenty years. After his last heart-crushing experience as a human, he wasn’t eager to take another vessel. But Demons aren’t meant to float. They are meant to possess. So he watched a little town, Beacon Hills, with a strange problem with the supernatural beasts of the world. And decided to take up the weakest little human in a pack of wolves and hunters.

Of course though, he severely underestimated Stiles. Rael was weak and Stiles was a lot stronger than he looked. There wasn’t even a fight. He hid, waited for his strength to build and fed off Stiles’ life force quietly. After tomorrow, he would be strong enough. If he floated too long, he would die. If all his energy ran out, like most things, he would die. Not very strong at all, but strong enough to leave.

The thing was, he wasn’t sure he wanted to. After the things he had seen and the emotions he had felt. He wasn’t supposed to be sentimental towards anyone human, let alone his vessel. He wasn’t supposed to feel this. But he did, and he was greedy. He wanted more. He wanted to stay here.

He shut off the water and returned to the bed, falling down into it. He wanted to try something quickly, something that had been on his mind.

“Stiles?” He said out loud. It broke the silence and silence was returned. After a few seconds though, he felt something. Like a tiny shiver of emotion. Recognition. Sadness.

He had first felt it in the warehouse. The flicker of fear that wasn’t Raels when Derek mentioned killing them. Then it hit him when he kissed Derek, pulsing affection. Stiles was there. Maybe not awake, more in a dreaming state, but he was feeling what Rael felt. And it was better than what he had felt two days ago; shutting down and giving up. This was him trying, saying he wasn’t done yet.

——-

Derek sat in his black Camaro and waited outside the high school solemnly. With no kids running around like douchebags, it actually was a pretty quiet looking place. But man, Derek didn’t miss high school at all. He supposed the whole experience was a lot different when you were secretly a werewolf.

He heard a tap on the window that snapped him out of unpleasant memories of sitting alone at lunch and the fast, pulsing love of Kate Argent that ended in flames and horror. He stared out of the window at Boyd and opened the door, stepping out.

“Are you okay?” Boyd blinked, “You look a little off.”

“Full moon,” He grumbled. It wasn’t necessarily a lie. He found himself feeling more primal as the days came and even now he was focusing on thoughts of his mother and his sister just to keep from biting everyones head off.

Boyd just nodded, though he didn’t look convinced. Derek liked that about the Beta, he saw through Derek the way Isaac and Erica didn’t even try to. Which was probably also why he was trusting him to drive his car.

Boyd almost seemed to read his mind, “Why am I driving, anyway? Why don’t you just drive us?”

“Because I have to drive with Stiles.” He said, watching Boyd get in the car.

“Because he’s your mate?”

“He’s NOT my mate.” Derek spat, “Why does everyone think that?”

“Because we can pretty much smell it on you,” Boyd sighed, “There’s nothing wrong with it. Scott chose a human mate too.”

“Stiles isn’t my mate. He’s my responsibility. I have to protect him.”

“Can’t he be both?” Boyd asked. Derek rolled his eyes and shut the door as he heard the loud bell excusing the students from class.

So he was already waiting in Stiles’ jeep when he got in. Except it wasn’t him, of course.

“You’re stalker-levels of creepy, did you know that?” the Demon said as it got in the passenger side.

“I’ve been told.” He grumbled, “Give me the keys. I’m driving.”

It relented the keys and smiled, “I’m guessing the guns are already in the back.”

“And the chains.” Derek started to pull out of the parking lot and watched the Demon turn around, digging through the duffle bags behind them.

“Uh,” It frowned, “There’s only enough here for…”

“Three.” Dereks frown deepened, “Boyd, Erica, Me.”

It stared oddly, “What about Scott and Isaac?”

“I don’t think they’ll turn. They have enough grasp on humanity, they’re so insanely strong. I’ll need them to stop us.”

“How are they supposed to stop you? You’re the alpha. You overpower all of them easily.”

“Hence, the guns.”

“If you think I’m going to kill you, you’re an idiot.” It spat angrily.

Derek scoffed out a bitter laugh, “Why? I am so sure killing me is exactly up your alley. Taking down a werewolf Alpha and initially his entire pack. Isn’t that what Demons do? Cause chaos?”

“You assume a lot, don’t you?” It was cold and upset, “Whether or not my instinct says to kill the dangerous wolf, I can’t. Killing you would initially kill Stiles. And what fun is it to live in a dead vessel?”

Something about his voice was lying, though, and said there was more to this. More underlying emotion and confliction than this Demon would admit to. Sadness and anger wafted off of him between breaths of smoky wrongness.

“What did you say your name was again?” Derek grunted. He didn’t want to even be a little kind to the unwelcome creature lying behind Stiles’ chocolate brown eyes. But he had to admit, it was being kind for a Demon. It could have killed them. Killed Stiles. Killed innocent people. Instead it was here making itself uselful, being tolerant. And he would needs its cooperation if he wanted Stiles to make it through the night.

It leaned against the window, “Rael.”

——-

It turned out Alison didn’t know where she was going nearly as well as she thought she did. One hour of silence in the jeep watching the buildings and cars eventually fade into thick forest became ANOTHER hour of an extremely grumpy Derek yelling into the phone at Scott while they drove over dirt roads in circles. When they finally got out of the cars it became another hour of prowling up the side of a cliff a lot farther than it should have been while they all became increasingly more dirty and irritated.

Rael found it all pretty entertaining actually, at least for a while. But when six o’clock rolled around he started shifting on his feet feeling uncomfortable. He really didn’t want to be the one standing here with no weapons yet and feeling pathetically human when the wolves came out to play.

Finally they found it. It was built into the sides of the cliff, encased in cement. The only way to get into it, it seemed, was from a small covered hole at the top and some dirt mounds were the only way to get up there. A metal ladder led down about fifteen feet, and Derek passed out flashlights and huh, this guy had really thought of everything.

Rael climbed down slowly, unsure about how well this rusty forgotten ladder could hold him up. When they all reached the cement floor, he shined his lights on the walls. It was about twenty by thirty feet wide, a lot bigger than he had originally thought. It also felt like a torture chamber which sent shudders down his spine. He wondered how long a person could be locked in isolation, darkness, and silence before they went insane. His thoughts drifted to Stiles.

Derek dropped the bag of chains on the floor, “Alright. Let’s get started.”

“What is our general plan?” Scott asked, watching Derek pull out some metal collar looking contraptions and chains.

“Chain us up thoroughly, lock us in here, wait outside with weapons in case we escape. Not a hugely complicated plan.”

“I volunteer to be locked up first then, I guess.”

Derek looked at him weirdly. Rael arched a brow and faced the Alpha, “You didn’t tell him?”

“Not exactly.” Derek murmured.

“What?” Scott looked confused and so did everyone else.

Rael smirked and picked up one of the chains, “Papa wolf only brought enough for three.”

“What!” Everyone shouted at once. Derek winced.

“So you’re just locking up the new betas? That’s fucked up Derek.” Erica frowned.

“No, I’m locking up the people who can’t control their beast side.” He huffed. Rael could tell how hard this was for him. To admit he couldn’t control himself.

Isaac and Scott exchanged looks like they understood. No one else said anything, they didn’t yet understand. Derek grabbed Boyd and started wrapping him in chains. Isaac and Jackson started doing the same to Erica. Wrists bound, ankles, bands around their heads and necks. It was insanely painful looking and sounding. Their screams echoed in the cement, and their eyes reflected the monsters inside of them, under their skin.

“Derek,” Rael said when Erica and Boyd were thoroughly chained up and the smell of blood was thick in the air, “The sun will be setting soon.”

Derek nodded and turned towards Scott, placing a chain in his outstretched hand.

“Make it good.”

“What are you doing?” Lydia hissed, her eyes wide.

“Scott can stay human even in a bad moon. He has love,” He eyed Alison at that comment, “Isaac has memories, sadness, strength. I believe in him.”

Jackson looked sick but understood, “And you’re the Alpha. More primal, and you can’t control yourself.”

“No. I don’t think I can.” Derek said. No one asked any more questions. Derek locked his eyes onto Raels as Scott came behind him, pinning his hands and wrapping them up. He kept looking at him as the chains went around his chest, his neck, his legs. As Scott screwed the bolts into his neck and forehead, the howls of pain made Rael feel like he was going to throw up. Stiles’ discomfort and pain and fear was almost blinding. Growls and primal screams escaped the Alphas mouth and Scott looked sick. Lydia patted Alison and started back towards the ladder. Jackson grimaced and followed them.

Eventually it was done. Dereks form slumped to the floor but Rael kept staring at him. His whole body felt rotting. The smell of blood on the air made him feel dizzy. Stiles twisting inside of him below all conscious was horrible. Scott gently touched his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Are you okay?”

Rael stared at him, “Uh, yeah.”

“Let’s go. We don’t have a lot of time and you all still need to be armed.”

“Right.” Rael said quietly. He followed Scott and Isaac up the ladder. When they were all safely out, Scotts eyes glew amber and he sliced the ladder. It broke and fell to the floor with a clatter. Rael watched silently as they sealed the heavy metal top back over the hole.

They slid down the dirt slope a bit to where the humans were waiting around the other duffle bag. Alison was loading wolfbane-tipped arrows into the quiver flung over her shoulder. Jackson was filling his pockets with extra wolfbane shells and hoisted up the shotgun. Lydia stared at them and looked unsure.

Rael came up and touched her shoulder gently. He hated her, he really did. But she showed vulnerability and weakness on her face that hit him. It was probably Stiles and all his memories of having sincere feelings for the self-centered girl.

“Whats wrong?” He asked. She met his eyes and he had to admit, she was beautiful. Reminded him of… well, that wasn’t important.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” She said quietly.

He leaned down and picked up one of the shotguns, loading two bullets into it. He stood up and held it out to her.

“Lydia, you’re strong. You’re an alpha female in your own right. So show that to us now.”

She eyed him hesitantly and then took it. He smiled and knelt down, loading his own gun. For some reason he felt like Stiles right now. Not that Stiles was there, but his emotions were fueling him. Like they were one being in unison.

“If they get out, they aren’t likely to head up the mountain. So we should cover our bases,” Scott said. He gazed past them and at the sun which was beginning to touch the edges of the sky.

“Bases being?” Jackson gave them his usual scowl, but it was serious. Rael could smell his fear.

“You four should split up,” He nodded towards the ones with weapons, “Head down the hill in different directions, go about a hundred feet or so. Hide, patrol, have weapons ready.”

“What about you?” Alison said softly.

“I’ll stay up here and keep an eye on them. If they escape, I’ll howl. Let you know. Isaac can head to the bottom of the hill and patrol there. If, on the off chance they get past me and you guys, he can attack them.”

“Like three layers of defense.”

“Yeah.” Scott nodded, “Alright. We should get going.”

Isaac immediately turned and headed down the way they had come. His face looked a little torn, like he didn’t want to leave. Rael remembered Stiles thinking Isaac and Erica had something. Rael gave him a sympathetic look. Stiles emotions were screaming to stay here, take care of Derek. But you couldn’t protect a monster that wouldn’t even recognize you.

Alison ran over and threw her arms around Scott in an almost embarrassing show of affection. She rested kisses along his face and then on his lips softly. She pulled away and looked sad, whispering something he was glad he didn’t hear. Seemed like an intrusion. Alison turned and started heading down the southwest face of the hill.

Jackson and Lydia were more subtle, but maybe just as heartfelt. She stared at him with a broken look, he offered her a genuine smile and nodded. Then they took off their separate ways, north and south. It seemed right, in a weird way.

Rael was about to turn to go down the last direction; northwest, when Scott touched his shoulder. He turned to look at him.

“Are you going to be alright?” He asked, dark brown eyes searching him with concern.

Rael sighed, annoyed, “I’m human, not weak. And I have a gun.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Scott grimaced and looked over his shoulder at the bunker, “You looked pretty ripped up at Derek.”

Rael blinked. God, these humans were always surprising him, “It was pretty bad.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think he’ll break out?”

“I don’t know. We’ve seen the Alphas true wolf form. It’s huge. I don’t know if anything can stop him. But if he does, and you see him, run. Don’t shoot him.”

Rael was stunned, “What?”

Scott looked him up and down, “You love him.”

“I…”

“No one should ever have to kill someone they love. I’ll kill him. If you hate me forever, I understand. But I won’t put that guilt on you.”

Scott pulled him into a hug then. Rael was completely shocked by the selflessness of one person. And then he felt wrong, invasive. This moment wasn’t for him, it was for Stiles. Another intrusion. But he hugged back because that was something Stiles would want. He would want Scott, who was like his family, to know he was thankful.

“Thank you,” Rael whispered. When Scott let go, he gripped his shotgun tight in his hand and turned around, advancing quickly down the hill without looking back.

“One, two, three, four, five, six….” He said at each long footstep he took. He watched the constantly changing dirt and leaves, stared up through the tall trees at the sun, now an orangish Amber color.

When he reached one hundred, he stopped and looked around. He didn’t recognize anything, saw nothing but trees, even when he turned to look the way he had come from. He walked a few more feet left until he found a huge, grey tree. He lets his hand run down the bark, and then jumped up, grasping a low hanging branch. He hoisted himself up, reaching for another one. He was a good five feet up when he found its center. He rested in between the twisting bunch of branches and stared at the sun as it set.

Orange faded to a brilliant red that reminded him of blood. It felt like a sign that it would be spilled tonight. He just wished he had a better grasp on the situation. Before the red had fully even reached purple, his eyes shot up to the full moon already half across the sky. He suddenly heard an ear-splitting growl echo out into the afternoon. There was no doubt it was the alpha, muffled only by cement. He heard two more less intimidating growls and howls in pain and anger.

It was starting.

——-

Rael startled awake a few hours later, his back hurting from the hard bark. After the sun faded from red to violet, violet to blue, blue to black, and the growls had all subsided, the silence had been too much. He had drifted off into sleep. There had been no noise, no alert howl from Scott, no crunching branch. But fear was pounding in his chest like he had had a nightmare. Stiles was pulsing again. Rael could only think about how inconvenient it would be if he woke up now. But he had a weird feeling in his chest.

He climbed down the branches carefully, letting his eyes adjust a bit. Though truthfully, they didn’t really need to. The moon was full and huge, drenching everything in a blue that felt all too familiar, but not to Rael. He pulled out Stiles’ phone and checked the time.

**12:03**

At least five hours had passed since they locked up the wolves, and since then it had been quiet. A little too quiet, but whatever. Something in his heart was pushing him somewhere. He listened to it, let it guide him farther north. The only sound that broke his ears was the soft crunch of dirt underneath him. At some point, he came to a clearing. Recognition hit him like a car. He hesitated, but kept walking. The field wasn’t like it was in Stiles’ memory. The grass had grown tall and thick, and a single tree had grown in its center. He might not have even recognized it if it wasn’t basked in the same blue light as before. In a dream. In a memory.

He walked towards the tree, feeling the tall grass graze over his thighs. It was young, maybe seven or eight years old. Not very big, but not a baby tree either. It looked strong and grew up just above his head, full of leaves. His hand went forward, shaking, he realized it wasn’t him doing this, not really. When his hand touched the bark, he pulled back like he had been burned and a laugh echoed in his head. Flashes of a brilliant smile and dark hair and brown eyes identical to Stiles’.

Rael stared in shock. This wasn’t-

His thoughts were interrupted by a long, clear howl through the dark. He froze. No, that was definitely Scott. The howl was cut off by a snarl and growl, echoing down towards him. The realization that he had left his shotgun where he was sleeping was drowned out by the realization it didn’t matter. He wasn’t shooting anyone or anything.

 He stepped away from the young tree and walked up the field. He looked up at the full moon and let its power seep into him. He was strong now. Plenty strong to leave. But he was going to fight the good fight and protect these people first. He had to ensure that life for Stiles was fine before he went to find a new life for himself. Even if the thought scared him.

He closed his eyes and listened hard. He heard the sounds of a fight at the bunker. He heard the clear snarls of Erica ripping into Scott, and Scott ripping into her. He heard another howl, Boyd escaping the bunker and heading south. It was Jacksons problem now. And then he heard the biggest growl he’d ever heard, purely primal. There was the sound of cracking cement, a whimper from Erica. Derek was out, and he was advancing on Scott. God, no. He would destroy him.

Raels eyes flew open and he circled his hands around his mouth. He let out his best howl. It was weak, and it sounded pathetically human. But the snarls stopped. He heard Scott growl out in warning, but Derek was gone.

Shit.

Rael didn’t turn around. He backed up slowly, honing his other senses. His eyes flickered between trees, but all he saw was darkness. He sighed deeply in an attempt to calm the short breaths coming out of him. He smelled nature, woods, nothing else. He heard nothing.

His eyes shot straight ahead and he stopped walking. The darkness there had thickened. He watched with unblinking eyes as two glowing red orbs appeared between the trees. He let out a shaking breath and suddenly wished he had taken the time to double back and get that gun. Just in case. He glanced down, and realized he was wearing a bright red sweatshirt. He barely had time to appreciate the irony when it emerged.

It was three times his size, easily. Covered in dark fur, highlighted in brown like Dereks hair. The eyes were full of hunger and anger, glued to Rael like it was all he saw. It walked forward on four legs slowly, like it was deciding the best way to rip him to shreds.

He centered himself and met its eyes with a challenge. It stopped coming straight towards him about ten feet away and started going left, clearly intent on circling him. He stood still, watching it from the corners of his eyes until it vanished from his view. He closed his eyes and listened to it. It was behind him when it stopped. He smiled and listened as it let out a growl, its feet leaving the ground.

He jumped left, doing a roll on the ground. He heard its body crash into the place he was in its failed pounce. He rolled into a kneeling position and looked back at it. Its eyes flooded with rage and it turned on him, surging forward. He pushed through, rushing with full speed and strength into one of its arms. It howled in pain and he heard the satisfying crunch of bone in its arm. Only as he hit it did he realize how truly big it was. He quickly danced out of the way of the swiping claw that nearly got him. The wolf doubled over in pain, and something echoed clearly in Raels mind, Scotts voice.

_If he does, and you see him, run._

Probably a good idea at this point while it was disabled. He turned on his heel and started into a full run. He had to get far away. Find someone with a gun, or find Isaac, or find Scott-

Sharp pain shot through his stomach and he was lifted in the air. His jaw fell open in shock and he choked on something liquid in his throat. He looked down to see three claws protruding from his stomach, and he felt the hot breath of the Alpha on his neck and pain coursing through him. Oh god. This was it. He shouldn’t have turned his back.

He screamed. But it wasn’t him screaming at all. It was Stiles, taking over at the pain and shooting out the most blood-curdling, horrifying scream Rael had ever heard. The breath stopped, Derek seemed to be frozen in… realization? It pulled out its claws and he fell to the floor in a panicking mass. He heard hard footsteps leading away, backing away from him instead of sinking its teeth into him like he was sure it wanted to.

He coughed in pain and blood sprayed out over the moonlight-soaked grass. He was at a war with himself. Stiles was suddenly there, screaming loudly, though he wasn’t sure any of it was actually coming out of his mouth. Oh god. It hurt so bad.

He looked up at the moon and firm realization hit him. He had two choices. He wasn’t strong, not like he should have been as a Demon, but he was strong enough. Strong enough to either leave Stiles’ body now, leave him to die, or heal him. And he knew that if he healed him, he would die himself. He didn’t want to die. But he felt all the feelings in Stiles all over again. Pain coursing with the blood, guilt at the thought of leaving his parents, hope that his friends would stay safe and happy, fear at the thought of the wolf.

Rael squeezed his eyes shut and knew his decision was clear. The last thing he knew was the overwhelming smell of blood.


	7. Lupophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lupophobia: The fear of wolves.

Stiles’ eyes flew open and he choked out more blood over the grass. He pulled inward, his hands touching his red soaked shirt and hoodie. Oh god, there was so much of it, thick and liquid. He tasted it in his mouth, his throat, his lips. He inhaled it and knew it was all him. But he wasn’t feeling the intense pain that should have been coupled with being ran through with long, sharp claws.

He rolled onto his back and winced at the overall aching of his body. He ripped at the remains of his clothes and felt along his stomach, his hand searching through fast drying blood clinging to his skin. He touched the huge slices on the surface in horror. And then, just as quickly, he seared with pain as he felt the skin close up over them.

He blinked. What?

He breathed deeply. He should be vomiting blood and choking as it flooded his pierced lungs, his penetrated stomach. He shouldn’t be okay. He should be on the brink of an extremely painful death. And he felt the blood, on his lips and hands and body. But it wasn’t coming out anymore. He wasn’t dead.

He heard a deep growl from about ten feet away and nearly pissed himself. He had been watching everything in a sort of dream state until getting stabbed, sure, but he had somehow completely forgot about the three hundred pound werewolf that had tried to kill him in the first place.

He sat up quickly and regretted it when dizziness hit him. Yeah, he seemed to have healed under some act of god, but he still lost a lot of blood. He looked up into weirdly familiar bright blue eyes enclosed in a fur face and muzzle, huge fangs glistening wet, one paw soaked in Stiles’ blood.

The blue eyes were only that way for a half second before they returned to a glowing red and a snarl ripped from its lips. But it was all Stiles needed, all the recognition and realization. And somehow escaping the cold hand of certain death had him not even a little bit afraid of the beast that could rip him to shreds. Especially not when he knew it wasn’t the beast it thought it was.

He stood up slowly, not wanted to pass into unconsciousness yet. The creature bristled as he did, without looking away from his eyes. He stared at it and took a step forward and fuck, he was totally insane. But it took a step back and let out a warning growl. He gulped, realizing what it was doing. The humanity in Derek was giving Stiles the chance to run. To get away now. And Stiles momentarily considered it, running away now. But doing that would have been giving up, saying no to what he needed so badly. And he was going to stand committed.

He took more steps towards it, squashing the fear inside of him. He stood tall and met red eyes with his own, not backing down. It stopped backing up and stood very still.

“Derek,” Stiles said. It was barely above a whisper and he felt his knees shaking. He really was crazy.

It stilled and watched, the red flaring up before nearly fading away completely, leaving a brilliant blue of Dereks real wolf, mixed into the piercing green of his human form.

Stiles sighed with relief and took another step. This time, though, his leg gave out and he crumpled forward onto the ground. Derek winced like he wanted to jump forward and help him, but he didn’t do it. He stood still, claws raking into the ground.

Stiles took another deep breath and pushed up off the ground. He felt so weak. He wanted to fall away and sleep. Or die, whichever offered some rest. But he couldn’t, not now and not at this point. He pulled onto weak legs and took three more slow steps, staring at Derek the whole way. Two more steps and suddenly he was there. He felt hot breath against his face and stared deep into the eyes, watching him in a way that wasn’t a beast at all. Not even a little bit.

He lifted his hand carefully, but Derek didn’t move or do anything. He rested it slowly on the top of his muzzle, petting carefully over his head. His hand slid back, thick dark hair grazing between his fingers in a way that felt familiar, like running his fingers through Dereks hair. He exhaled a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and gripped the hair at the base of the huge black ears like they would vanish away at any given moment.

“Derek,” He stared at those eyes and felt pain in his chest, “Come back to me.”

It looked like it understood. Stiles closed his eyes and stroked over the fur, listening to just the sound of heavy breathing from them both. He rested his forehead slowly against a wet nose and felt the breath on him. He knew that smelling like blood wasn’t helping Derek fight off the animal inside of him, but he was doing this anyway.

After a few minutes passed that felt more like an hour, Stiles realized his hands were locked into hair instead of fur. And the wetness of the nose had vanished, replaced by the soft scrape of flesh on his.

He opened his eyes and looked up at Dereks human face, breathing raggedly and looking like he was aching in pain. His eyes were closed now, and Stiles tried to ignore the fact he was totally naked and focus on his face.

“Stiles,” he said slowly, aching over the words like he was still in a battle with himself, “You need to go.”

“No.”

Derek gripped his shoulders and stared at him with eyes lingering with red, “I want to kill you.”

“You won’t.” He breathed, glaring. He was impatient, he was so… done with this whole, ‘I’m dangerous, stay away from me’ crap.

Suddenly his knees weren’t doing so well at all. He fell down and took Derek with him. He was on his back and gasping at the pain, and Derek collapsed down next to him, also apparently too weak to hold himself up. Tall grass shook up around them, stretching towards the sky. He saw nothing but the huge full moon, the glimmering stars.

“Stiles,” Derek choked out, “The blood…”

“I’m fine.” He moved around, removing what was left of his hoodie, which was a lot of ripped cloth. Without looking, he placed it over Derek’s, uh, special area. And Dereks hand found his stomach, tracing the newly formed and thick scars there.

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

Derek nuzzled his face into Stiles neck, and he half-wondered if he was still kind of in wolf mode. He inhaled and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of the forest. There were no howls, no gunshots or sounds of fighting deep in the night. There was only this, only breath and heartbeats and silence.

“I’m sorry.” It was a whisper. Stiles had never heard those words leave that mouth in his entire existence of knowing Derek. He smiled.

“I forgive you.” These were words Stiles knew he was equally hesitant about saying, ever. He hoped Derek knew how much he meant them.

And then Derek was babbling, which was hilarious. “What if I turn again? The night isn’t over and-”

“I’ll stay with you.”

“But if I can’t control it, and if I do this to you again, I-”

“I’ll stay with you.”

“You’re so fucking stupid! I am a monster, I could totally-”

Stiles turned his head and shot out, letting his lips press down into Dereks, shutting him up. He pulled back and looked into green eyes.

“I’ll stay with you.”

It was a promise. Both to Derek and to himself. Because even when the Alpha wolf was shoving claws deep through his stomach, all Stiles could think about was how it would hurt him, how much he… felt. And what he felt, specifically.

Derek was watching him with an ever present scowl. The shock of everything that had happened had made him a blabby, falling-apart mess for approximately one minute and it was hilarious, but now he was just frowny, stubborn, mean werewolf Derek Hale.

“Do you feel him?” He said suddenly.

“What?”

“Rael,” Dereks voice seemed like an echo, “Is he gone?”

Stiles considered. He had nearly forgot about the Demon in lieu of worrying about the werewolf he might be falling for. But now it was mentioned, he was forced to really think about that. Feel deep down inside of him. And what he felt surprised him.

“No,” He swallowed hard, “I mean, I don’t think so. I feel a bit… empty. I don’t know.”

“So, he left.”

Stiles shook his head. As soon as he felt the pain in his stomach, he was awake. He was alert for the first time in days. When he screamed, that was him, but the shock and horror he felt at the time was Rael. The confusion and conflict, it was all Rael. He remembered back to when he had a panic attack and nearly rejected the Demon from his body, the pain and the smoke he saw coming right out of his soul. But he didn’t see that now, he didn’t feel it.

“He didn’t leave. It’s like he just… vanished.”

Derek looked confused for a second, and then it faded into a complex understanding. He reached out and touched Stiles’ bare stomach and scar tissue again.

“He saved you.”

——-

“Are you okay?” Scott asked, pulling Stiles out of his thoughtful trance. He looked over at his friend, who was staring him down with careful eyes.

“Yeah? Should I not be?” It was a really stupid question. Nothing about the past few hours had made any sense to Scott, probably. When the full moon finally vanished at 3 a.m, Stiles half-dragged Derek back to where the others were supposed to meet. Luckily Derek had foreseen the whole naked thing and brought extra clothes, so he was at least in pants and boxers by the time the others showed up.

According to their collective conversing on the walk back to the cars, after Rael had led Derek away, Scott had fought and chased Erica well into the night. Boyd had, in fact, run into Jackson, who put normal bullets into him until Isaac showed up to stop the raging werewolf badness from happening. But only after Boyd got a good claw into Jacksons side, which looked like it needed stitches. Stiles was mostly tuning out their words and details to care for Derek, who looked completely distant, though he wasn’t physically injured. After they reached the cars, Derek insisted on driving since Stiles was completely drained. Now they were standing in Deatons lobby while he stitched up Jackson at 5 in the morning.

“You’re covered in blood,” Scott said hesitantly, “Your blood.”

Stiles sighed and looked down. His shirt was done for and hanging off of him, the shreds of his hoodie left somewhere in the woods. He was, in fact, covered in his own blood and Scott probably smelled it.

“Yeah. I guess I am.”

“Are you going to explain how you lost enough blood to kill you, but you don’t seem to be hurt? Or dead?”

“I am going to. It’s up there in the how-I-killed-a-harpy category, but I’m way too tired to get into that right now.”

“Okay,” Scott sighed. They were standing together, listening to the muffled sounds of Jackson complaining from the other room. The three Betas had gone home already without stop. They had been weirdly silent, actually. Erica and Boyd were obviously ashamed of their lack of control, ashamed that they had hurt their friends. Stiles was just glad Jackson had the smarts to bring normal bullets. It was obvious to him now that no one had any intension of killing anyone. Alison was asleep in the back of her car, and Lydia had been quiet too. She looked a little shell shocked, like she had seen some things she didn’t want to, ever. And Derek was in Stiles’ jeep. He had let Stiles sleep in the car on the way here and didn’t say anything, not even making annoyed noises when Stiles made dumb remarks.

Yeah, it had been a long night.

“I thought you were dead.” Scott said quietly. Stiles turned and looked at him.

“What?”

“I was fighting off Erica, and then Boyd was running off into the woods. And then there was Derek, and he was so… huge. I almost didn’t recognize him. And he was coming after me, right towards me, and I knew I was dead. And then I heard you howling, and so did he. And he… recognized it. Like you were the only food he wanted to eat. And he ran off and I thought you would be dead; ripped to shreds by him.”

Stiles saw the haunted look on Scotts face and knew he wasn’t lying. He vaguely remembered this, vaguely remembered thinking it was a good idea when Rael did it. “It’s not like I could let him kill you.”

Scott laughed half-heartedly, “Yeah. But if Derek killed me, he wouldn’t be too hurt. If he had killed you, he would have been heartbroken.”

“If he had killed you, Alison would have killed him, and then I would have had to kill her and basically no one would have survived.” Stiles smiled, thinking of Alison violently raging after Derek with a crossbow. He was glad to hear a chuckle come from Scott.

“You’re probably right.”

“Besides, I knew he wouldn’t kill me,” Stiles breathed, “Not really.”

Scott was quiet for a moment, and then looked at him oddly, “Are you sure about this?”

“Sure about what?”

“Derek. Doing whatever… THIS is. With Derek. Because I know you somehow calmed him out of his wolf form, which is truly, truly awesome. But you can’t deny that you are covered in your blood. A lot of your blood.”

Stiles frowned and shifted under the cold gaze, and knew there was no point insisting to Scott that nothing was going on between him and Derek, “Yeah. I mean sure, he’s a murderous wolf sometimes and he’s frowny ALL the time but… It’s almost instinctive. This thing. Whatever it is. I don’t think I could run away from it even if I wanted to. And I don’t.”

“Even after he tried to kill you?”

“Especially after he tried to kill me. Because in the end, he didn’t. I was looking into the eyes of the wolf, and all I saw was Derek. Please, believe that.”

Scott looked hesitant, and then a small smile broke over his lips, “I do.”

The door in front of them opened and their eyes shot up to Deaton, who looked a little too annoyed and exhausted to be working at 5 a.m. “You know, you all really need to stop bringing me humans to stitch up. I’m a vet.”

Scott laughed, “No you’re not.”

Deaton rolled his eyes and Jackson stepped around him looking sour and sore. All of their clothes were dirty or ripped or caked in blood (aside from Lydia who somehow managed to look perfect always) and it was way too hard to explain that to a doctor, and Deaton was the best second choice.

Jackson shoved past them and out the door, presumably heading back to the car. Stiles turned to the vet as Scott followed him.

“Uh, what Jackson means to say is thanks for the help.”

“Yeah,” Deaton smiled despite the amount of obnoxious teenagers this early in the morning, “What about you, Stiles? You look, uh, bloody.”

“Totally fine, not a cut on me.”

He nodded, “Alright, good. Go home and get some sleep, alright? Doctors orders.”

Stiles laughed, “But you’re a vet.”

He turned and left the building, letting the door close quietly behind him. He saw Scott and Jackson getting into Alisons car, and headed towards his own jeep. Derek was sitting in the driver’s seat, eyes drooping dangerously low. Granted, he looked kind of adorable.

“Hey,” Stiles said, opening the passenger door, “Do you need me to drive you home? You look really exhausted.”

Derek snapped back into alertness with a jolt. He glanced sideways in a glare, “No. I’ll be fine. Get in.”

Stiles shrugged and did as he was told. God, he just wanted his bed. The drive from the clinic to his house wasn’t too bad, thankfully. But it felt awkward because Derek was tense and silent and Stiles felt like he had done something wrong. Or everything wrong. So when they finally pulled up to his house, he was hesitant to leave the car.

“Stiles,” Derek rubbed his eyes, “Go to bed and sleep.”

“Only if you come with me.”

Derek stilled and looked up at him, “What?”

“It’s early. You’re tired. Too tired to walk all the way home, so, Derek. Please come upstairs and sleep with me.” He said it fast, meeting the Alphas green eyes. He was basically asking Derek to stay in his bed, and not really expecting him to say yes or anything.

“Okay.”

“Pl- wait, what?”

Derek rolled his eyes and opened the car door, “I said okay, Stiles. Don’t make me regret this decision.”

Stiles tried to hide his grin and got out of the car, practically skipping up his porch and through the front door.

“Where is your dad, anyway?” Derek asked, glancing around nervously as if he was expecting Stiles’ dad to pop out with a shot gun at any moment. Truthfully, Stiles didn’t really remember what Rael told his dad to let him go on this fun little trip, but it must have worked because he didn’t have a thousand missed calls or the feeling he broke his dads heart.

“At work. Something about a serial killer. And before you ask, yes, it’s actually a human this time.” Stiles darted up the stairs before Derek could even get a word out. He smirked at his ability to outrun a nasty old werewolf, even though they were both too tired to function right now. He walked in and started digging through his dresser drawers. Derek walked in looking annoyed and immediately started undoing his pants.

Stiles blushed and grabbed a clean t-shirt and his most attractive low-hanging lounge pants. Derek was watching him carefully.

“What?”

“You’re going to shower before you get into this bed,” Derek basically commanded, “You smell like death.”

Stiles groaned in exhaustion, “But-”

“Now.” Derek barked. Stiles trudged to the bathroom, watching Derek slip his jeans to the floor and get into his bed. The thought that yes, Derek Hale was getting into HIS bed, was more than a little pleasing to Stiles and might have sent shivers through him.

Looking at himself in the mirror, he could have died from embarrassment. Blood and ripped clothes and tired eyes and new scars would have looked good on Derek, maybe, but definitely not him. So, in a weird hope that sexy times might ensue with Derek in his bed, he decided a thorough wash in hot water was what he needed. He showered quickly, getting annoyed when he had to scrub particularly hard at patches of dry blood all over him. He ran his hands through hair, hardened by sweat. When he was done, he brushed his teeth, got dressed, and quickly skipped back into his room.

To his small dismay, Derek looked fast asleep. The sun was peaking up over the mountains now, and shining through his window spreading light over the bed. He adjusted his pajamas and walked over, keeping his eyes on the sleeping form. Dereks face looked totally peaceful, but his arms were folded over his chest in a defensive way. Stiles smiled a little to himself and pulled off the covers on the opposite side, getting in.

Derek was warm, and Stiles didn’t realize how cold he had gotten from running in the woods all night. He pulled up close to him, pressing his chest to his side. He rested his chin on a huge muscular shoulder and inhaled. Derek smelled like nature. Like grass and bark and water on rocks. It reminded him of his mother, who used to always spend time gardening and teaching him how to climb trees. And maybe it was the fact he hadn’t gotten any sleep, but tears were forming in his eyes.

“Stiles,” Derek grumbled, half asleep, “Your feet are fucking cold.”

Stiles choked out a laugh. Dereks eyes fluttered open and he turned to look at him strangely. Stiles laughed again because he looked so silly, so perfect even though he had been murderous wolf six hours ago and then naked and now he was here, in his bed. And Stiles couldn’t tell if he was laughing or sobbing, but tears were streaming down his cheeks.

And then Derek was holding him. Pulling him deep into his chest, and into his arms, and Stiles was crying tears into his nice clean grey T-shirt. And he gripped Derek like he was the only thing left on earth, and at some point he fell asleep.

——-

Derek woke up around noon before Stiles did. So he lay quietly and watched him. He watched his chest go up and down for a while, his lips slightly parted. After about twenty minutes, he figured Stiles should wake up before his dad came home. So he leaned forward and brushed his lips against his.

Stiles whimpered slightly and kissed back, sliding against him and opening his lips, inviting him in. Derek let his tongue slide inside, exploring. He tasted faintly of tooth paste and blood, and images of the night before flooded his head. So Derek pulled back.

“Mmmm more please,” Stiles muttered without opening his eyes. He pressed his pelvis upward and Derek looked away.

“No,” He pushed a pillow into Stiles’ face, “Get up.”

Instead of doing that, he watched Stiles wrap his arms around the pillow and kiss it loudly. Derek growled.

“At least the pillow loves me back.” Stiles said, muffled. Then he froze. So did Derek. The pillow was slowly removed, and Stiles’ look of sheer horror would have been funny if the circumstance was different.

“St-”

“I didn’t mean that,” Stiles sat up, babbling, “I didn’t mean to insinuate that you don’t love me back. Or, that you love me at all. Because that would be totally silly, why would you love me? Why would anyone love me? I’m just an idiot, really. I’m not saying you DON’T love me or that I love you or anything, either, because I don’t know. It was just a joke, and I really didn’t mean-”

“STILES!” Derek said as loud as he could, and Stiles shut his mouth with an audible click. They stared at each other for a long time, searching each other for some sort of reaction that neither was willing to give.

“Do you love me?” Stiles blurted, “Uh, not that it matters. Obviously.”

Derek blinked, “If I didn’t, I really think I would have torn you to pieces last night.”

“Oh,” His big brown eyes looked shocked, “Okay.”

Derek frowned and walked around the bed to retrieve his jeans. He pulled them on, secretly trying not to be disappointed. He might have possibly expected his confession to have a very different reaction, or at least a more dramatic one. Like Stiles throwing Derek out on his ass and never wanting to see him again. He guessed he should have foreseen this. He did nearly claw him to death, and just because they were kissing or sleeping together or saving each other’s lives and it meant something to Derek, didn’t mean it meant a damn thing to Stiles.

He buttoned up his jeans and prepared for some sort of walk of shame out of the house when he felt arms lace around his middle, hugging him tight from behind. He felt a head rest against his neck.

“I love you too.” Stiles whispered. Dereks heart sped up in his chest and he couldn’t help the tension leaving his body; he was relieved.

“Oh.” He said, suddenly understanding the speechlessness.

“It’ll be kind of complicated. I might be in danger sometimes, but I don’t mind. And I need this, Derek. Trust me. If you go now, then… Then it’s going to be a lot worse for me. I might be dead anyway, inside.”

Derek nodded, “You’re my mate.”

“Yes.”

“So, what do you… want?”

He felt one of Stiles’ hands drift down from his chest to his lower stomach and fought off the urge to shiver. “I want to be your mate. Or your boyfriend. Or both.”

“Okay.”

“And I want to tell people. I want to tell Scott everything. And I want to tell my dad, even, maybe.”

“Okay.”

“And I want you to mark me. I want to be yours.”

Derek gulped, feeling genuinely aroused, “Okay.”

“And I want you to stop saying okay.”

“Ok- Uh, alright.”

Stiles laughed and pulled back, circling around him and looking up into his eyes. Derek looked down over him. His wrinkled shirt clung to his body, and his pants hung low on his hips, giving Derek a clear view of his stomach, and the hair there, and one of the huge white scars. His heart caught in his throat. Stiles frowned and looked down, touching the scar.

“Derek, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He said. He sounded genuinely scared that Derek was going to get up and leave, but it was really the opposite. Derek had been the Alpha last night. He might have killed everyone in his way, pack or no pack. But when he heard Stiles scream, he wasn’t a wolf anymore. He needed Stiles right now, maybe because it was his anchor; that love. He took a step closer and pulled Stiles into his arms.

“I hope you never have to see me like that again. Like a monster.”

 “Believe me, me too. But I’d love you either way, monster or man. All that bullshit.”

Derek smiled and leaned down, pressing his mouth against Stiles’ ear and lowering his voice to a deep whisper, “So when did you want that marking thing to happen?”

Stiles laughed nervously, hot against his face. Then he shoved Derek playfully down onto the bed.

“Immediately.”


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Culpa: Latin and Spanish meaning Guilt.

Over a month had passed since the incident in the woods. It had passed quickly, and in something along the lines of “hell”. Everyone was so stressed about finals and graduating from their sophomore year, plus relationships and drama, so when it was all over and June sprang up around them it felt like just a time to relax.

On the most recent full moon, Derek taught the Betas more on how to stay calm and anchored until they basically had it mastered. And Stiles was glad. It made things a lot less bloody and bad. But now school was over, they had to really focus on some actual problems, though the supernatural world had been strangely quiet.

So, deciding now was the best time as any, Stiles gathered up his courage and cornered his dad in the kitchen one morning in early June and tapped his foot, trying to gather the words.

“Stiles,” his dad sighed after a minute, “What do you want?”

“I’m not going to be in for dinner tonight.” Stiles said. His dad just shrugged it off like it was no surprise. “Um… I have a date.”

His dad furrowed his eyebrows and looked up at him, “What?”

“Yeah. A date. I mean yeah, it’s more of a group date, and we’ve been dating for a while but um… I just wanted to tell you.”

“Okay,” His dad shifted in his place at the table, “So, who’s the lucky lady?”

Stiles couldn’t really help the panicked look that probably shot out over his face. Oh god. This is the reaction he was hoping to avoid, I mean, it was already bad enough he had to have the DATING talk with his dad but now he was also assuming he was straight. Not actually that much a surprise, though.

“Actually….” Stiles trailed off. He had no fucking idea how to even finish that sentence.

His dad quirked an eyebrow, “Oh. Uh, who’s the lucky… guy?”

He didn’t look that surprised, just a little thrown and maybe he felt a little bad, so Stiles relaxed. “Uh, Derek. Derek Hale.”

His dad frowned deeply and somehow mustered up the most horrifying glare Stiles had ever seen. Oh god, this was so much worse. His dad was barely accepting of the fact they were all friends with the ex-person-of-interest at all.

“You do realize I’m a police officer, right?” He said suddenly, “As in, I have a gun and the training to use it.”

“Dad, please. Aren’t you a little past this whole protective father thing?”

“No. He’s twenty-three, Stiles.”

Yes. Of course THAT was the problem. Stiles almost laughed.

“Yes. And I am sixteen, and he is eight years my senior. You’re literally telling me nothing I don’t already know.”

His dad sighed and rubbed his eyes, “Stiles…”

“Dad, listen. It’s not like I’m some stupid horny teenager who is confused about his sexuality and all of that crap. I am sure. I’m sure that I like Derek. And it’s not like we’re having sex or ANYTHING because we aren’t. He’s actually the perfect gentleman, and I know you’d like him if you gave him the chance. And he’s nice to me. He’s good to me. And if I thought for a second he would treat me like crap, I’d dump him so fast his head would spin. Please just trust me on that.”

His dad looked shocked for a second, and then looked considering. After a few silent moments, he stood up and approached him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You’ve never been a normal kid,” He said quietly, “You’re sarcastic and annoying sometimes, yeah. And you worry me all the time. But I always trust you that you know what you’re doing. Because you may be an idiot, but you have never been stupid. You’re considerate, and loyal, and you know yourself, which I’ve always admired about you. So if you think this is a good idea, then yeah. I trust you.”

Stiles stared with wide eyes, and then grinned like an idiot.

——-

Stiles laughed a little maniacally as Jackson pushed Lydia off of the dock. Her arms flew out and she let out the beginnings of a scream before she hit the water of the lake. He laughed even harder when Scott tackled Jackson into the water after her.

Stiles grinned back at Derek, who was laying shirtless on the grass and watching them all, looking particularly grumpy. Stiles stood up from the pile of sticks he had been accumulating and skipped over, collapsing on his stomach next to the frowny Alpha wolf.

“I told my dad today.” Stiles announced, playing with the grass. Dereks head snapped to look at him through dark sunglasses.

“Oh? And how did that go?”

“Good. He says he’s fine with it because he trusts me. But he wants you to come over for dinner sometime.”

Derek leaned his head back and looked a little less worried, “Oh, okay. Is he going to shoot me?”

“Probably. But you’re a werewolf so you can take it.” Stiles teased. He leaned over and rested his temple against Dereks stomach, getting him a weird look.

“What if I push you in front of me?”

“Ouch. That hurts, Derek. I thought we were friends.”

Derek laughed out loud, “We’d be the weirdest friends ever.”

“No shitting.” Stiles closed his eyes and smiled, still lying on the hard stomach, “But it’s not like we’re screwing.”

Which was true. Aside from long, everlasting, and wonderful make-out sessions and the occasional seventeen hickeys all over him (which, yes, did happen), their relationship had been remarkably chaste. Stiles would relentlessly wear tight clothes and whisper dirty things in order to seduce his werewolf boyfriend, but Derek would gently shrug it off and slip out of the situations.

Stiles felt a caressing hand run through his hair, which was a bit longer than usual. He needed to shave it again. “Sorry I’m so hesitant. I don’t want to take your virginity right now. Not until I know you’re sure about this whole thing.”

“I am so sure,” He said without opening his eyes, “And I’m such a horny teenager.”

“Then be patient.” It was an order, but Dereks voice sounded amused.

“I’ll wait forever for you,” Stiles said dreamily. And that definitely wasn’t a lie.

They were interrupted by a very wet and grinning Scott running up to them, “Guys! Are you done making out?”

“We weren’t making out.” Stiles sat up and blinked at him, “I was nowhere near his mouth.”

Scotts jaw hung open and Stiles felt his face get bright red. Derek laughed and stood up, “What do you want, Scott?”

“Come play in the water. That’s why we’re here!”

“Fine, but when I drown you, don’t get mad.” Derek grinned and took off his sunglasses, discarding them into the grass. Scott laughed and took off running back towards the lake. Stiles just frowned.

“I don’t wanna get wet,” He announced. Which was a horrible idea, because then Derek was turning an evil grin towards him. Stiles barely yelped when Derek picked him up and flung him over his shoulder, and definitely tried not to find it really hot that he could carry him.

And he really did scream when Derek threw him into the water.

——-

The day was spent a lot like that. Alison and Scott made out in the water and got themselves half-drowned by Derek because of it. Lydia ignored Jackson and tried to salvage her hair after it got wet, but by the time the sun went down, they must have made up because she was cuddling up to his side while Stiles attempted to make a beachside fire out of the sticks he had collected.

Eventually a fire happened, but only with the help of a lighter.

They passed around the bags of chips Stiles had brought and completely ignored the gross looking hot dogs Scott had brought as a ‘good idea’ and they talked. Scott was telling one of the lamest ghost stories that Stiles had heard, maybe because he had heard it about sixteen times.

Derek was next to him on one of the big driftwood pieces they were using as chairs. They didn’t do a lot of public touching, and Stiles was okay with that he guessed. They just had their knees pressed together in a tiny intimate touch that meant a lot. By the time Scott finished his story and was arguing its point with Jackson, though, Dereks entire leg was pressed against his. When Lydia was separating the boys, Derek was casually completely lodged into his side.

Most surprisingly, when Alison started telling an ACTUALLY scary ghost story (well, as scary as it would get to a group of kids who had seen a lot worse), Derek was touching Stiles’ hand. He watched the fingers intertwine, and realize his face was probably red. Derek hadn’t held his hand before, so he was a little thrown. The best part was, Derek was paying attention to Alison. Like, a lot of attention. He didn’t really seem to notice his hands work, which earned him a grin from Stiles.

“What?” Derek murmured when he saw his smile. Stiles glanced at their hands twined together against their knees. Derek stared at it and looked a little surprised, but didn’t pull his away. He shrugged and kept listening to Alison. Stiles did an inward fist pump and felt like he had won the lottery.

After a while the moon and the stars came out, and Scott and Alison had vanished to go on a ‘walk’. Jackson was insisting on skinny dipping, and started ripping off clothes while Lydia reprimanded him. Stiles giggled at their antics and then felt himself getting pulled to his feet by Derek, who was still holding his hand tightly. He pulled him gently away from the dying fire and back towards the grass where they had been earlier.

Derek let go of his hand and Stiles might had deflated a bit. But then Derek was laying down shirtless in the moonlight and gesturing for Stiles to lay down next to him. He did as he was told.

They didn’t say anything. Derek had found his hand again and Stiles was positively glowing, between the butterflies in his stomach and the elephants in his chest. They stared at the sky and watched the stars, making little points at the ones that shot through the sky. At some point Derek rolled his eyes and informed Stiles that the blinking one was in fact an airplane, but they mostly stayed quiet.

And it was perfect, really. Being here with Derek and not having to talk. Having Derek find him insufferably annoying most of the time, but loving him all the time. And just holding his hand without thinking about it. And having their friends tease them, and having his dad approve of them.

And that’s when Stiles heard it. A tiny voice, faint and familiar in the back of his head, there but not there.

_When things are perfect is the best time for them all to fall apart._


End file.
